


Resentful Restitution

by shadowshrike



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Bedrooms, Captivity, Injury Recovery, Language Barrier, Misunderstandings, Unresolved Tension, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-03-05 13:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowshrike/pseuds/shadowshrike
Summary: After Corrin refuses to kill her father's prisoners and Leo finds a loophole to avoid their execution, the work falls on Xander and Camilla to make their little sister's dream of setting the two Hoshidans free a reality.Saving their lives was easy. Healing them while keeping their existence a secret? Much harder.





	1. Claiming the Prisoners

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself I wouldn't start another multichapter until the others were done, but this story wouldn't let go. This is the obligatory 'why is Xander and Kaze's C Rank Support so friendly' and 'what happened between Xander asking the mostly-dead prisoners be sent to his room and their release' fic, which will likely become canon divergent. 
> 
> The current rating is for some adult themes mentioned within the first few chapters - sex slavery, abuse/death in prison, and Camilla being Camilla. It may go up in future chapters if anything more explicit comes up.

“‘Bring their remains to my quarters, so I might inspect their belongings?’ I had forgotten how clever you can be,” Camilla cooed to her older brother. They walked side by side from the throne room, the solid clack of her heels and Xander’s determined steps warning any servants they passed into silence.

Unable to shrink from her praise in such a public place, Xander’s eyes stayed firmly fixed on the end of the hall. He replied, “Leo is the clever one. He spared us a grave tragedy today.”

Camilla’s charming smile fell. “Yes...what was our sweet Corrin thinking? Defying father like that…”

“She is still naive. Perhaps I am at fault for keeping her so,” Xander muttered, the bitterness he wore as often as his armor these days clipping his words. “I doubt she believes I would have struck her down on those steps.”

Reaching to the soft fabric between the plates of metal, Camilla squeezed her brother’s arm. “We agreed it is better they never know that about us. Corrin and Elise will be happier not understanding what we’re capable of.” Her head dropped, lilac hair obscuring a face that twisted with an ugliness ill-suited for a princess. “...what we’ve already done.”

Strong, clawed fingers lifted her chin. For a moment, she hoped to see the young Xander staring back at her. The kind boy who had made a solemn vow to keep Elise sweet and pure, the one who trained to excess and laughed when his sisters placed a crown of flowers on his brow to heal his foolish wounds, the same who held her as she wept at the graves of all those they had lost - that was who she wished her elder brother could be again. But when she looked up, all that greeted her were the cold, tired eyes of a man made hollow by war. 

“Don’t worry, little sister. I will not waver in my resolve. For as long as I am able, the two of them will never know how unjust the world is.” He brushed the wisp of a bang from her damaged eye. “You have my oath.”

“And a knight never breaks his oath,” Camilla finished for him. Pulling away from the fearsome gauntlets forcing her to bare secrets no other man would dare to demand, she started down the hallway again, forcing a saccharine smile that dripped at the corners with venom. “But enough of that, Xander. What do you intend to do with the prisoners? If we throw them back in the dungeon, father will know of our deception. Leo will be punished and our darling Corrin will have her heart crushed when they are executed.”

“Which means the only choice is to let them free,” Xander concluded. At last, they had reached his chambers. He fished a key from his hip, unlocking the dark-stained door with a metallic thunk. “But they must not be caught, or the same issue remains. They will need to recover enough to run.”

“So you’re planning to hide them here as they heal? That’s too dangerous for you to handle alone.”

Xander shoved the door open, revealing a spacious room filled with gilded furniture and fine silks dyed the color of Nohr’s night sky. Two conspicuously dirty bundles of cloth and limbs lay sprawled across his otherwise immaculate bed in the center of the room. At least the guards had bothered to wipe the prisoner’s blood from their ‘corpses’ before they ruined his sheets.

“It is our only option, Camilla. No one knows of what transpired today except us and our siblings. Our little sisters are too trusting to carry out this sort of deceit. And while Leo is exceptional at subverting father’s expectations, he was the one who cast the spell. I can’t put him at risk by asking he harbor the fugitives as well.”

Camilla closed the door behind them, a finger tapping thoughtfully at her lip. Xander was rarely wrong in his logic; he had not become Nohr’s most fearsome leader by chance. However, countless losses had caused him to develop a bad habit of not delegating when he was afraid that people might get hurt. She would not let him forget all his options.

“Then I will take one of them.”

Xander twisted his head sharply, glaring over his shoulder at her. “Camilla! That is…”

“...the wisest course of action,” she cut him off. Her smile widened as she met his furious glower. “A ninja and the fire tribe chieftain could cause too damage if they were both to regain their health at the same time while sequestered here. If they are separated, we can keep a closer eye on them, and they will have more reason to cooperate with us.”

“Ninja of his caliber care about nothing but their mission, and that fire tribe chieftain was too bullheaded to be coerced into anything,” Xander scoffed. “Splitting them will not gain us any leverage.”

Taking several steps past him towards the bed she hummed to herself, “Perhaps not. But you must agree they are less dangerous on their own than together.”

“I am more than capable of handling two prisoners alone,” Xander protested.

Camilla released a breathy sigh and pushed back the fire chieftain’s straw-colored locks with a tender finger. What a fiery woman. More muscle and grit than curves and grace, the princess had admired the blunt ferocity with which this woman lashed out at her captors. If only the fire tribe hadn’t sided with Hoshido, she would have fit in well among the other savage valkyries Camilla had collected.

Perhaps all she needed was more positive motivation. The wildest ladies Camilla had tamed all came to her craving the same gentle touch, though they did not know it. If an encouraging hand was all it took to wipe the stereotype of ‘Nohrian Scum’ from her mind, the princess would be remiss not to try to turn her. What better opportunity to prove Nohr’s capacity for compassion than while tending to her wounds personally?

“I want this one,” Camilla said suddenly.

“What?”

Camilla turned back to face her brother, her hand still resting on the unconscious woman’s face. “The fire chieftain. I want her to claim her like I did Beruka.”

“You...intend to turn her to our cause?” Brow pinching, Xander’s arms formed an imposing cross over his chest. “You already heard from her lips how much she hates Nohrians. It is a wasted effort.”

“Don’t pretend the thought hasn’t crossed your mind as well, Xander. I saw how you watched that ninja’s battle.”

“He is a skilled warrior. It is only natural to closely observe the movements of such a talented enemy, but not because I hoped he would fight at my side. I could never trust a ninja who pledged themselves to our cause.”

Camilla laughed and shook her head like an exasperated mother, “You say that as if you trust anyone within the castle walls.”

She feared Xander’s face might crack with how severely his frown deepened. “I trust you.”

“But not with this?”

“...you do not intend to leave until you’ve gotten your way,” he observed, looking utterly unmoved by the realization. A hand left its position on his bicep to rub at a growing headache.

“You know me so well, big brother,” Camilla twittered in return, stepping into his space to swipe a soothing hand against his cheek. “Please? I know you insist you don’t need it, but let me care for you?”

“Camilla…”

She pressed a finger to his lips to stop him. “If it will ease your worries, think of it as giving me an early birthday gift. And in return, I will secure the fire tribe’s loyalty for Nohr. You know father would love to have their tribute. He’ll forget all about his order once they’re under our thumb.”

Twisting his head away from her hand, Xander remained mute for several tense seconds. Then, with a weary sigh, he relented, “Very well. To the end of strengthening Nohr and preserving Corrin’s innocence a while longer, you may care for the woman in secret until she is strong enough to release. I will watch over the ninja.”

“Thank you, Xander!” Camilla’s voice broke its sultry cadence for something akin to one of Elise’s squeals. She wrapped him in a brief hug, gone before he could protest and throw her off as he so often did to his retainers. “You won’t regret granting me this.”

“...see to it I don’t.”


	2. A New Warden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Japanese-as-Hoshidan has translations at the end of the chapter

Ninjas were taught not to fear death. Still, Kaze never imagined it would feel so...fluffy.

He felt as though he was nestled in a bed of kinshi feathers, his skin appreciating the downy softness all around him. He’d never known such coziness while among the living. Perhaps he had atoned for his mistakes by losing that final battle against Lady Kamui, and this was his reward. Everything felt so relaxing, as though he could sleep here forever.

Everything except the solid weight on his chest.

He tried to wiggle in place to dislodge the heavy feeling, but it rode every wave of his body, stubbornly remaining in place. The obnoxious weight wasn’t enough to choke the breath from his lungs, nevertheless, Kaze’s agitation grew with its pressure between his heartbeats. He had thought, however briefly, that he was free. That he had finally made amends. But with every short inhale, the initial tranquility of his surroundings paled in comparison to this single, misplaced feeling of discomfort.

Was this a physical manifestation of his guilt? Even in death, was he doomed to focus on the sins of his childhood?

Grimacing in disgust at his own failings, Kaze forced his eyes open to see what afterlife the gods had chosen to make his torture. He was greeted by huge emerald irises that bored into his own, unblinking.

「 ... 猫 …? 」 Kaze mumbled under his breath.

“It seems you’re finally awake,” a rich baritone voice remarked from somewhere over his left shoulder.

Nohrian. The man was speaking Nohrian. A creeping suspicion that this wasn’t the afterlife he’d assumed solidified as Kaze tried to push himself upright, wrists bound in rope stopping him. The black cat that had taken residence on his chest meowed in his face for the disturbance, and hopped off to find a more sedentary resting place.

“I apologize for the bindings, but I did not want you doing anything rash until you understood your position,” the voice continued. Proper in his speech and articulate, if it weren’t for the strange, formal words, this person would be easy to understand even for Kaze’s middling knowledge of Nohrian. Undoubtedly, the voice belonged to a well-educated noble.

It fit with the rest of the room, Kaze realized as he took in what little he could see while trapped by the ropes. A fine, purple and black cloth draped above him in a canopy over what Kaze could only assume was a Nohrian-style bed. Flecks of gold wound around long posts loomed overhead. At the tops, miniature dragons stood guard, winged and ferocious as only found in Nohr. The craftsmanship suggested Kaze was the prisoner of nobility, possibly even royalty. Given his last memories of kneeling before the black throne, slated for execution, it made a sick sort of sense. He’d heard rumors of Nohr taking concubines as trophies - letting the conquered serve out their lives through obscene slavery in lieu of death. Perhaps Lady Kamui’s plea for their lives had ended in him being trussed up to be ‘broken in’ instead of killed.

Kaze wasn’t sure if he should thank her or curse her for this fate. On the one hand, as long as he lived, he could work towards freeing her from her Nohrian kidnappers. On the other, death seemed a far preferable fate to facing more torture at the hands of Nohr’s royalty. 

And what of Rinkah? Had she been spared, too? She would not do well being forced to serve a Nohrian. In prison, even without the conceit of royalty intensifying her punishment, Rinkah’s insolence had ended in many a beating. If she was alive, Kaze needed to get her out of here before she was killed for her pride.

“Nothing to say? I know you speak Nohrian.”

“Who…” Kaze groaned and swallowed. His throat hurt from so long without water. “Who are you? Why am I here?”

“I am Crown Prince Xander of Nohr,” the powerful voice said, confirming Kaze’s fears. Sturdy hands reached beneath Kaze’s back and he was hoisted to a sitting position like a doll, now propped against a pile of pillows so he could see the rest of his room and his captor. Gods, the crown prince was even more intimidating up close. “You are here because my sister wished to spare your life.”

The whisper escaped before Kaze could contain it, just like it had when he first laid eyes on her in the throne room,「カムイ様 … 」

“That’s what you said when you saw her earlier, too. Kamui...that was her name before coming to Nohr, wasn’t it?”

It sounded genuine, but the question made no sense to Kaze. How could her captors not know her true name? Still, whatever game the prince was devising, it was better to play along for now. As long as they were using the pretense of being kind to speak with him, cooperation would get him much more information than stubborn silence.

“Yes,” Kaze croaked out a confirmation. “It is how I know her.”

Xander nodded, his expression never straying from its stony frown, but he reached over to his desk beyond Kaze’s field of vision for something. He heard the sound of liquid being poured. “I see. And is that why you threw the match against my sister?”

Shocked that anyone would follow a prisoner’s fight so closely, much less have picked apart his deception, Kaze struggled to push out an explanation. “I…I didn’t...You must be mistaken...”

“Drink this,” Xander interrupted. A metal goblet was pressed into his bound hands, cool to the touch. “It’s water,” he continued when Kaze took too long to take a sip. “I’m not going to poison you after taking so many risks to keep you alive.”

There was no refusing that tone. Kaze awkwardly raised the glass to his lips and drank. It certainly tasted like water, refreshing to his parched throat.

“Now, let us try that again. Without the lies.” If his skin wasn’t already so pale from death grazing by him earlier, Kaze was certain the way Xander’s tone darkened would have turned him whiter than any Nohrian as all his blood tried to flee his body in terror. “I know a skilled warrior when I see one, especially a ninja. You have experience, speed, and accuracy over my sister. You have been trained to never miss a kill. And yet, when you had the opportunity to strike her down, you missed. Why?”

“...because she is the stolen princess,” Kaze admitted, followed by a half-truth, “As a Hoshidan servant, I could not kill her.”

Fathomless carnelian eyes pinned him, the intense crease in Xander’s brow promising swift retribution if he found any trace of lies in Kaze’s face. The silence ticked on for long seconds, Kaze not daring to take a second drink while their staring contest continued. Then, at last, Xander hummed once and leaned back in his seat.

“I see. For now, that will do.”

Kaze swallowed another mouthful of water, his breaths coming easier now. “For now?”

Xander nodded regally, “Yes. We will have much time to discuss while you recover from your injuries. If you do not cause trouble, you may earn more freedoms.” He glanced pointedly down at the ropes making it difficult for Kaze to drink, then held his gaze again. “On the other hand, if you betray the goodwill you’ve been shown, you will die despite Corrin’s wishes. Understood?”

It was impossible to follow every word, but the general meaning was clear to Kaze. It sounded like the same rules as any Nohrian prison - do as the guards said and you won privileges. Fight against them, and you’d be lucky if you woke up the next day. It seemed a simple system, until you realized it really depended more on the mood of the guards than your behavior.

“Yes, Prince Xander,” Kaze replied, giving what little bow he could from how he was seated. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, I assume you have questions for me?” Xander chuckled at the owlish stare Kaze gave him. It was a warmer sound than the ninja had expected; the laughs of his wardens had been profoundly cruel in comparison. “Don’t look so surprised. You may yet be a prisoner of Nohr, but you’ve been granted clemency by my sister.”

Kaze had no idea what ‘clemency’ was, but he guessed it meant he’d somehow earned a little of the prince’s trust by Lady Kamui going so far to protect him and Rinkah from execution. Whatever the case, he would be foolish not to take the opportunity to request intelligence from Nohr’s crown prince.

“Is Rin…” Kaze started over, assuming the prince hadn’t bothered to learn his companion’s name. “Is the woman I was with still alive?”

Xander confirmed their shared fate with a nod. “She is currently under my sister’s care. Camilla will treat her wounds as I am treating yours.”

“Camilla...Nohr’s first princess?”

Another nod. 

“I see.” Rinkah would be difficult to retrieve if she had a different captor, especially one almost as influential as Prince Xander. “May I ask why we are being healed?”

“Corrin wants you alive,” Xander answered simply. The tightness of his jaw suggested he was unwilling to elaborate. Kaze would have to choose his next words with care. 

“Then...we are to be kept as your…?” He couldn’t think of a delicate enough word for ‘slave’ or ‘bed warmer’ that wouldn’t offend a prince’s sensibilities. Then again, the future leader of a barbaric culture of conquerors might not have those moral sensibilities, despite Prince Xander’s fussy speech and immaculate appearance.

Unfortunately, the man didn’t seem to understand his meaning well enough to allow Kaze an escape through silence. “Our what?”

“Ah...I don’t know the Nohrian word. In Hoshidan it is 側室.”

“I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with that term. Could you describe it?”

What an awful request. Kaze couldn’t bear to look at the prince while he spoke, instead staring at the smooth, dark rope knotted twice around his wrists, not yet chafing but too tight to break free. “A servant of a...ah...private nature. One kept for the...pleasure...of royalty.”

“N-no! Of course not!” The scandalized horror in Prince Xander’s usually composed voice was enough for Kaze to chance a look at him again. It might have been a trick of the light, but Kaze swore his skin was stained crimson over the crest of his sharp cheekbones. “Nohrian royalty does not keep…” He seemed to struggle with the word as well. “...sex slaves. You are being healed so we can send you back to Hoshido. Nothing more.”

Kaze frowned, so unable to comprehend his reasoning, he wondered if he’d misunderstood Prince Xander’s words. “You are sending us to Hoshido? Home? But we are your enemy.”

“As I said, Corrin wants you alive. If my father finds you within our borders, you will be executed and my siblings punished for deceiving him. Returning you to Hoshido is the only possible option,” Xander explained tersely. “And if you consider breaking free to be discovered by my father on purpose to make my family suffer for saving you, you and the chieftain will be dead long before rumors of your escape reach anyone’s ears.”

Ah, so that’s why he had hesitated to explain their full situation earlier. A desperate ninja would throw his life away without hesitation to do even the slightest damage to the royal family; Prince Xander must have known that. What he had less faith in was the debt incurred by saving a man’s life. Perhaps in Nohr there it was not seen as dishonorable to stab your savior in the back, assuming you were once enemies. Lucky for the crown prince, then, that Kaze was not from Nohr.

“I would not insult your family’s sacrifice in that way.” Kaze ducked his head again in another almost-bow. “You have my word.”

“I do not trust the word of a ninja,” Xander returned coldly. “Only your deception.”

“You have known many ninja?”

“Enough.” And so ended that conversation.

Uneasy silence draped over the room once again and Kaze’s eyes searched the space for something else to talk about. Prince Xander’s icy scowl made it difficult to think. His gaze flitted from the leonine dresser against the wall, to the rows upon rows of books and trinkets on the bookshelf, up to the exotic trophies on the wall, and over to the desk drowning in papers and writing implements, until it eventually dropped down into his own lap. His eyes widened, wondering how he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Prince Xander, are these...your clothes?”

Xander cleared his throat, betraying his embarrassment despite his steady voice, “I didn’t have many other options given the circumstances. I realize they are large on you. Your own will be returned once they’ve been washed and mended by the staff.”

“Why would they clean a dead man’s clothes?” Kaze wondered, studying the voluminous white fabric draped over his body. He knew he was thin from lack of nutritious food during his prison stay, but this shirt fitted to the prince’s broad chest and arms made him look like a child. It seemed Prince Xander was a very large man under all that armor.

“They think it is a trophy,” Xander explained, his words so rushed Kaze almost couldn’t understand them. “When Leo made you both appear dead, I asked for you to be brought to my room so I could inspect your belongings. The staff believe having your clothes cleaned is part of that.”

“But if they do not know I am alive, then…” Kaze trailed off before he could ask who had stripped and dressed him while he was unconscious. He had a guess, judging by how the stone-faced prince was practically fidgeting in his seat. It was not a task Kaze would have expected someone of his stature would even consider taking on themselves, but when secrecy was so important, he supposed there were few others who could be asked to handle it.

Ah well, if it was Xander who fitted him with his new clothes, Kaze had no complaints. He’d certainly suffered worse humiliations as a prisoner than being seen naked by royalty, and judging by Xander’s disgust at his earlier suggestion about their role here, he doubted the prince would have done anything more while he was unconscious.

If they weren’t sworn enemies, Kaze might have found his propriety endearing.

“...thank you for taking care of me,” the ninja finished.

“You do not need to thank me. I am not caring for you out of the goodness of my heart,” Xander reminded him. “After sparing you, to do less than this would reflect poorly upon my family.”

“Then I thank your family for their honor.”

Something changed in the prince’s eyes as Kaze said those words. Their frigid judgment eased. He searched Kaze’s face, the tilt of his eyebrows relaxing from their harsh angle into something softer, perhaps even curious. But before Kaze could place the foreign emotion stealing the prince’s attention, his face shuttered again and Xander rose abruptly to his feet and out of view. Kaze had forgotten while he sat how towering the Nohrian prince really was.

“You are welcome on their behalf. However, I must be going for now. I will return with food this evening.” He didn’t wait for a reply to grab something from the table (paper from the sound of it) and strode out of the room with weighty, even steps. Kaze thought to call out after him, to ask for some idea of what had caused the sudden exit, but the familiar clunk of Nohr’s metal locks closing suggested it would be a wasted effort.

Kaze closed his eyes and breathed deeply. If Prince Xander could be believed, there was no reason for him to plan an escape. Still, he had a duty to collect as much knowledge as he could as long as he was in the crown prince’s chambers. He would have to find a way to convince Xander to remove the ropes. For now, it seemed his only option was to meditate for the next several hours. 

Hopefully that cat would refrain from climbing on him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Kaze's 'Hoshidan':  
> 猫 (neko) - cat  
> カムイ様 (Kamui-sama) - Corrin's name in Hoshido before she was kidnapped by Nohr.  
> 側室 (sokushitsu) - Used to refer to the concubine of royalty in Hoshido, though in this context with a prisoner of war, it implies a forced relationship, presumably for sex.


	3. A Visitor and A Taste of Freedom

It turned out the cat was a better companion than Kaze had expected from their first meeting. Although inquisitive paws did wander across him on more than one occasion over the course of what Kaze assumed was the afternoon, it didn’t attempt to suffocate him again now that he was sitting up. At one point, it even rolled under his tethered hands, gnawing at the rope in a playful gesture and sinfully soft fur pressing against him in demand of petting. Unfortunately for Kaze, the cat’s claws and teeth were too small to be of any help shredding the binding.

Far worse than the cat was the quiet. No matter how integral quiet was to Kaze’s profession, silence in others was never to be trusted, and his room was deathly quiet. Whether it was due to thick walls or the remote location of the room Prince Xander had imprisoned him in, Kaze heard nary a sound over the course of the day. Even the windows, casting a dull orange glow into the room from Krakenburg’s underground lighting, didn’t carry any noise through them. 

In some ways, Kaze missed the screams of the other prisoners and the clank of armored guards strolling past his cell. In most ways, he was much happier to be confined to a fancy bed, even when his only company was a black cat he didn’t know the name of.

Deep into what Kaze guessed was his sixth hour there (the light never changing made it difficult to judge time by anything but the beating of his heart), the long black ears nestled under his fingers perked up towards the door. It seemed Xander was finally back. In an instant, Kaze’s new companion leapt off the bed, running to the door to greet the man unlocking the it with a slew of demanding mews.

“Hush, Marceline, darling. I know you miss your papa, but I brought you dinner,” the voice of someone who was definitely not a man cooed from the doorway. Kaze strained his neck to see who it was, remembering all too well Prince Xander’s threat if he was discovered, but it was no use with the door so far away.

“Now, now, don’t hurt yourself...Kaze, I believe you said? I’ve come with food for you, too.” The feminine lilt strayed closer, accompanied by the firm clack of heels. “I’m afraid Xander is still tied up, so he sent me to tend to your needs.”

Finally, the billow of a purple dress swept into Kaze’s field of vision, taking up the space Xander had held before. This woman wasn’t quite as tall as he had been, but her heels did Kaze no favors in making it easy to see her face. Luckily, what little information he had already gathered was enough to guess who had come to visit him.

“Princess Camilla, I presume,” Kaze greeted with a nod of the head. “It is an honor.”

The woman giggled, leaning forward so he could better see her face as well as a couple other things he pointedly kept his eyes from. “Isn’t your accent simply precious? So polite. With a little more practice, you could almost sound like a native. It’s nothing like Rinkah’s - wild and defiantly Hoshidan.”

Kaze didn’t know what to make of the way she sighed as if smitten when saying Rinkah’s name. This woman appeared a world apart from Prince Xander in demeanor towards their prisoners, greeting him with a welcoming smile he suspected might kill the crown prince to wear. 

“Thank you, princess. I do my best to fit in,” he said.

“Then you must appreciate good tea with supper. I had hoped to share it with Rinkah tonight, but I think she needs time to...adjust.” Her smile was starting to look more ominous in Kaze’s eyes. “Won’t you join me?”

Ominous smile or not, he would have to be a fool to pass up this opportunity for freedom.

“I would be honored to share a meal, but…” Kaze held up his bound hands, dark lines stark against small, pale wrists.

Camilla tutted, “My brother never untied you?” She reached towards her ample bosom, drawing out a knife from somewhere within her corset. That would be a good trick to remember for the next time Kagero went undercover in Nohr. “You’ll have to forgive him. Xander has a difficult time trusting ninja under any circumstances, even when they’re completely at our mercy.”

Kaze strained to keep his face clear of anything but gratitude as the ropes finally fell away. “It is only natural. He has faced many ninja before, has he not? He said it earlier.” Before Xander had cut off that conversation when Kaze tried to press him.

A shadow passed over Camilla’s visible eye, mirroring the strain he had seen earlier in her brother. “Yes. He was obsessed for a time.” Suddenly the smile was back, the princess helping him to his feet and over to a couch he hadn’t noticed before, already set with a smorgasbord of food Kaze doubted he would be able to keep down. “But those days are long past. If you’re a good boy, maybe you can drive all those awful memories from his head.”

“...a...good boy?” Kaze repeated, puzzled. He had thought that was a phrase only used to praise dogs. 

Camilla laughed again. “But of course. Treat him well and help him relax. My brother hasn’t shared his chambers with anyone in over a decade. I’d rather the first time not be with a Hoshidan ninja, but maybe that’s what he needs.” Her smile widened. “And if you hurt him, I’ll enjoy relieving your body of its head.”

A cold sweat trickled down the back of Kaze’s neck; so much for her welcoming attitude. It seemed the entire family had no shortage of threats for him. He forced a mild smile to meet hers. “You don’t need to worry, Princess Camilla. I would never hurt your brother while I am under his care.”

“Good. Then I hope Xander finally learns you catch more flies with honey.”

Kaze frowned, trying unsuccessfully to make sense of the Nohrian idiom. “...he is...trying to catch flies?”

Halfway through cutting a piece of steak for herself, presumably taken from a singular serving platter to prove it was not contaminated for him, Camilla laughed, “How cute. No, the full saying is ‘you catch more flies with honey than vinegar’. It means that it is easier to attract people with kindness than fear.”

“So you are saying...that because he has not learned to ‘catch flies’ with honey...Prince Xander is not kind?”

“No. No, he has always been kind."  Her smile fell a little. "But kindness is a precious commodity in Nohr." 

Considering it enough of an explanation, Camilla took a dainty bite of her dinner. A delighted moan slipped out around her fork, and the sound made Kaze wonder once again if Xander had lied about Nohrian royalty not keeping prisoners for sexual release. When she swallowed, Camilla looked down at her dinner companion’s untouched plate and motherly concern plastered itself across her face. “You must be famished. Is this dinner not to your liking?”

“I am unused to Nohrian food,” he admitted. Even the aroma was turning his empty stomach, twice as strong as the gruel he ate inside their prison. “This is very…” He searched for the right word, but the closest he could get was, “...smelly.”

“The scent is too strong for you?” she guessed, setting down her fork. 

Kaze nodded once, solemnly. “I am sorry. I am grateful for the food.”

He bowed his head, expecting to be punished for refusing something the first princess had so graciously brought him. Even in Hoshido, such rudeness would be unconscionable. To do so as a prisoner in a harsh land where his life had already been threatened a handful of times was truly foolish, but Kaze couldn’t bring himself to pick up the fork. It was too nauseating.

But Camilla didn’t strike him. She didn’t even scold him. Instead, she started cutting off the top and bottom of one of the steaks, placing two thin slices on his plate. Then she took a single potato, split it open and dropped a pat of butter inside with a splash of salt while it was still steaming. Systematically, she began moving all the other plates away from the couch and to the desk, cordially clearing the air around Kaze and leaving him to watch on with a servant’s guilt as the princess worked for his comfort.

“Princess Camilla, this is too much…”

“Nonsense,” she chided. Setting aside the last tray of bread, she shooed the cat away from the cream and placed a lid over top before its black fur became white. “Xander may see you as only a prisoner, but as long as you are well behaved, you and Rinkah are injured guests in need of our hospitality. Now, is that plate easier to stomach?”

He filled his lungs with air, pleased to find the few foods she’d left behind for him weren’t the cause of those distressing smells. An ache in his back where the guard had whipped him on his way out of prison kept him from bowing as deeply as he knew was proper to thank royalty for this sort of consideration, but Kaze went as far as he could, lips tightening to disguise his grimace. “Yes, Princess Camilla. This is much better. I am in your debt.” Her delighted smile set his heart at ease. Reaching for a fork, Kaze intended to begin his meal, hoping it would keep the princess from delaying her own any longer.

The fingers of his right hand wouldn’t close. He blanched, trying again. Two of the digits twitched, straining into a malformed claw, but nothing that could hold Nohrian silverware with any semblance of good manners. He hadn’t noticed while his hands were still tied at the wrists; the strike the knight had landed on his forearm and Lady Kamui’s slash he’d only partially parried at the end of their fight must have damaged the muscles on that side.

This was bad. It was more than risking an impolite dinner with royalty. A ninja without control of his hands was useless or worse, a liability. Fingers took a long time to heal even if they healed correctly. How long would he have to recover before the Nohrians threw he and Rinkah out to fend for themselves?

Attempting to rectify the immediate situation, Kaze stretched across his body to pick up the fork with his left hand, thankful his training had forced him to become mostly ambidextrous, while wearing an apologetic smile. “My apologies, princess. I forget which hand to eat with in Nohr.”

“Don’t worry about things like that. Eat up before it gets…”

The door swinging open violently interrupted Camilla’s request. Prince Xander had finally arrived, still wearing armor from neck to toe and the most thunderous expression Kaze had ever seen. That was one way to kill an appetite, even if that piercing glare wasn’t being thrown in his direction.

“Camilla, what is the meaning of this? You were to deliver the food and leave, but I heard from Beruka she hadn’t seen you anywhere near your quarters tonight. And why is he on the couch - untied?!” Xander growled as the door slammed shut behind him.

“Be at ease, Xander. It wasn’t my intention to cause you trouble.”  Camilla approached him without any heed to his fury, letting the fine lace of her dress catch on his armor as she rested a comforting hand on his arm. “I am here to make sure your prisoner doesn’t waste away while you are attending to more important things. The food you ordered for us was too strong for him, and his hands are so weak he can barely eat on his own.”

The prince shook his head, dropping his voice to a heated mutter, “You must not be fooled, little sister. Ninja would do anything to make you lower your guard.”

“You think I don’t know how to root out deception?” She tutted at him, “You are listening too much to your worries. He is only a prisoner.” Her other hand came up to rest over Xander’s breastplate, rubbing compassionately over where his heart must be many layers beneath. Rising to the tips of her toes, she whispered something in Xander’s ear Kaze couldn’t hear. A consternated line appeared between the prince’s eyebrows.

“...That is enough for now. You have your own prisoner waiting for you. I will tend to him from here,” he said. 

His sharp gesture towards the door was a dismissal Camilla heeded, drawing away after taking a moment to untangle her skirts. She offered a curtsey to her brother and then to Kaze. “I will be on my way. Take care, Kaze. I will let Rinkah know you are thinking of her,” she promised.

And then it was just two former enemies and the cat sitting in uncomfortable silence once again. Xander stared at the floor where Camilla had discarded the cut rope earlier, his eyes focused somewhere far beyond the present. Kaze didn’t dare to eat the meal laid in front of him until the prince made up his mind about whatever was plaguing him. Cold food was worth avoiding the crown prince’s ire.

At last, Xander strode over to the rope pieces, running a gloved and gauntleted thumb over the strands he gathered. He glanced at Kaze’s wrists. 

“Celine!” he called, summoning the black cat out of hiding. It meowed inquisitively at him. “Here. A new toy.” Xander tossed the bundle of rope at the feline, which it leapt and caught midair in a feat of agility that would have made any ninja proud. The next moment, the cat was swatting it across the room, chasing after its homemade prey with explosive vigor.

“Celine...that is the cat’s name?” Kaze ventured to test the waters between them.

Xander followed his pet’s erratic movements with a half-smile. “Yes. Her full name is Miss Marceline, but I call her Celine. She’s good company.”

“She is. I was grateful for her today.”

Dark eyes caught Kaze’s, an inquisitive gleam narrowing them. “She visited you while I was away?”

“Yes. She crawled beneath my hands.”  He looked away to watch as the cat in question knocked her new toy under the desk, pawing enthusiastically into the small gap where it had disappeared.  “I think she was sad I could not play with her.”

“Celine does not often trust strangers.” 

Kaze glanced back to the prince, hoping to make sense of the strange tension in his voice, but whatever Xander was feeling had already been erased from his face. If he wasn’t clearly unqualified for the position on a multitude of grounds, not least of all his position as the crown prince of an enemy nation, Kaze might have suggested the other man consider ninja training. It was rare to find non-ninja who could disguise their emotions so completely. Only Hoshido’s most esteemed diplomats compared to a ninja’s detachment - something Kaze was starting to suspect was also true in Nohr. It seemed stories of Nohrians being incapable of nuance had been greatly exaggerated.

“Then I am even more grateful she chose to stay with me,” Kaze said. Xander made a quiet noise of agreement. Feeling emboldened by the prince’s choice to throw away his ropes and his own growling stomach, Kaze continued, “May I finish eating? I do not want to waste Princess Camilla’s food.”

“Yes, eat. When you are finished, I will help you to the washroom.” Xander waved towards a smaller door tucked away on the opposite side of the bed.

“Thank you, Prince Xander. You are most generous.”

“You do not need to thank me for common decency,” Xander grunted, then he was turning towards his desk to pick up a quill and begin what Kaze could only assume was critical paperwork. A prince writing letters rather than one of his many attendants...Nohr truly was a foreign place.

The evening passed quickly after that - Xander scratching quietly at parchment in his corner of the room, while Kaze finished the modest meal which left him feeling overstuffed. He had the presence of mind not to utter any Hoshidan words before or after he ate, even though the lack of etiquette gnawed at his remaining dignity.  The prince didn’t ask another question of Kaze the entire night. They exchanged quiet pleasantries, pleases and thank yous and your welcomes, until Kaze found himself nestled once again in a bed far too soft for a lowly ninja like him.

“Sleep,” Xander commanded him. “We will check your wounds in the morning.”

Kaze wondered when Xander planned to force him from his bed for his own rest. As a matter of fact, the prince hadn’t even removed his armor yet. Did he intend to sleep in it?

There was no reason to rush an answer. They would come of their own accord without risking a question which might flare the crown prince’s unpredictable temper. For now, with the exhaustion of a day Kaze never expected to see weighing down his eyelids, sleep was an easy order to follow. Curiosities about his makeshift warden would wait for the dawn.


	4. Nighttime Interruptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Japanese-as-Hoshidan has translations at the end of the chapter

There was no sun to wake Kaze when the new day came. It wasn’t the calling of the warblers that startled him from sleep nor the screams of an unfortunate prisoner fighting off all-too-real nightmares. No, it was the same thing that had woken him every morning since he came to Nohr and left his favorite pillow behind: a massive crick in the neck.

That crick was swiftly followed by more aches even the cloud-like surface he’d fallen asleep on could not assuage. A burning pain on his back where a whip had struck. A blossoming bruise over his left hip from a bad fall. Knees that pinched and tingled from overuse. And most concerning of all, the stiff soreness throughout his right arm that prevented his hand from closing. Realizing he would not be falling asleep again soon, Kaze groaned, forcing tired eyes to adjust to the room’s darkness and make sense of his jumbled memories. It would have seemed a dream if he hadn’t awoken in a massive bed, alone.

Alone. But if that were the case, that would mean…

Kaze groped weakly to his right side, but found no lump of blankets or dip of the bed to suggest the crown prince had returned to his bed last night. Using his good hand, the ninja propped himself up, searching the room for clues to what had happened after he fell asleep. The candles had been snuffed and papers tidied on the prince’s desk. If Kaze twisted hard enough, he could see the door remained closed and presumably locked. The coffee table next to the couch had been cleared of dishes save a single teacup Kaze didn’t remember drinking the night before. It must have been for the current resident of the couch, sprawled off its plush edges like only a man unused to sleeping in tight spaces could.

So that’s where he was. Prince Xander had fallen asleep on the couch. The Crown Prince of Nohr, a ruthless and shrewd warlord who towered over everyone like a black, armored demon, gave up his bed for the comfort of a foreign prisoner. He was currently wearing nothing but simple, soft fabrics, snoring quietly in the corner of his room like a man half his rank might. Even sleeping, the displeased furrow of his brow remained. Apparently, Kaze’s teasing remarks to Saizo that his scowl could become permanent if used too much might be closer to the truth than he thought. Above the creased forehead, Xander’s curls, free of their circlet, wove around his head, forming a messy halo of gold Kaze could barely make out with only the dim light from the window to illuminate it. 

Prince Xander looked so mortal like this. Unguarded. Like the perfect target for an opportunistic ninja hoping to end this war.

Kaze shook his head in the darkness, mentally berating himself for considering it. Enemy or no, this man had sacrificed his food, peace of mind, and now his bed to see Kaze healed. To strike him in this moment of vulnerability would be dishonorable. Perhaps Saizo would be able to make the kill, but Kaze had always found betrayal a harder pill to swallow than his brother once he started to bond with someone. Foolish though it might be, the kindness of Nohr’s royalty, no matter how fleeting, had impressed him yesterday. Even if his body were willing, Kaze couldn’t murder a man who’d carried him to bed like a babe when his knees were too painful to hold him any longer.

Distracted by his thoughts, Kaze almost didn’t notice the black shadow stalking towards Xander’s face until it was too late. A pair of unholy eyes gleamed at him through the dark. The sable beast had already slunk over the sleeping prince’s body, silent as a ghost, eventually consuming his mouth and nose with its fur as if responding to Kaze’s darkest thoughts.

Xander’s cat was going to suffocate him! Worse, the murder would undoubtedly be pinned on the only ninja in the room if he didn’t do anything to stop it.

Leaping into action, or more accurately tumbling from the bed, Kaze crawled towards the prince in a desperate scramble. Celine stared at him, unbothered by his panic. 

「... セリーンさん …! 」Kaze hissed desperately, trying not to wake the prince as he lunged towards the couch. When the feline refused to move, he wrapped his good hand around her, tugging gently, only to find she’d affixed her claws to the upholstery. He pleaded again in an urgent whisper,「 降りなさい...! 」

He pulled harder and harder, finding her more stubbornly attached with every jerk. In a last-ditch effort to save the prince’s life, Kaze hoooked his bad hand under her as well, switching to Nohrian in hopes she’d understand.

“Get. Off!” he grunted, ripping her away with a frenzied wrench.

Three things happened at the same time: a horrible tearing sound filled the air as Celine’s claws tried to take the couch with her, Kaze fell back on his bad hip while holding two weak handfuls of displeased feline, and Xander’s eyes snapped open to the commotion of his cat yowling in distress and his prisoner yelping in pain on the floor in front of him.

“What...is going on here?”

Celine squirmed out of Kaze’s loose grip, retreating to watch the spectacle from the safety of Xander’s desk. The ninja struggled to arrange himself in a bow before the prince without crying out in pain, “Prince Xander…! My deepest apologies! Your cat - Celine - she...I know it is hard to believe...but while you sleep…” Overwhelmed by the urge to grovel, the Nohrian language slipped from Kaze’s mind. “She...she...she wants to kill you!”

A refined eyebrow raised. “My cat wants to kill me?”

“Yes!” Kaze nodded with his forehead still pressed to the rug. “She try to...she cover -- ah, covered, your face. I pulled her off.” When Xander didn’t reply, the ninja’s fist clenched in his bow. He realized what this must look like. Celine protecting her owner from a traitor in the middle of the night. “I swear...I swear, Prince Xander...I wanted to help. I was afraid she would smother you.”

Kaze squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting judgement. After so many second chances he didn’t deserve, this is how he was going to die - in the crown prince’s bedroom, alone, after being framed for attempted murder by the royal cat.

A rough chuckle echoed from the couch.

Not believing his ears, Kaze remained unmoving on the floor, but the sound kept growing. Resonant baritone laughter filled their small, shared space, banishing any tension with its good humor. For the second time since meeting Prince Xander, he marveled at its warmth. Such a cold man shouldn’t be capable of making a sound so fond. Then again, a truly cold man also wouldn’t feed, bandage, and clothe an enemy for the sake of their sister’s happiness. There were many mysteries still to be unraveled about this strange prince.

“Is..something funny?” Kaze mumbled, chancing a glance up at his judge and executioner.

There was no mistaking it, even in the near-blackness of their room. The crown prince, rumpled and only half-awake, was smiling at him. Somehow, the unexpected kindness there only made Kaze’s anxious heart beat faster. 

“Peace, Kaze,” he said. His voice had lost all traces of mirth, but the faint upturn to his lips hadn’t budged. “I do not suspect you of an attempt on my life.”

Cautiously, Kaze rose to sitting, flinching as his hip screamed at him. “You do not?”

“No. You are entirely too free of cat scratches for that to be the case.” Xander propped himself up on an elbow, yawning. The languid stretching reminded Kaze of a lion passing judgment over his pride after a long nap. “Despite what you may think of me, I am not an unreasonable man. Even when I am forced awake two hours before sunrise by a ninja trying to save my life from a cat.”

Kaze ducked his head. “I did not know what to do. Celine had covered your mouth and nose.”

“Of course she did. She is a cat,” Xander stated, as if that statement made sense all on its own.

“She...tries to kill you often?”

Controlled amusement wove through the prince’s voice. “Some might say so. She does have a bad habit of sleeping on faces some nights. Particularly when I take her favorite spot on the couch.”

Kaze couldn’t understand how Xander was so  blasé about this; it was if the man thought himself immortal.  He replied with a frown, “She sounds like a dangerous pet for a prince to have.”

“It isn’t often a problem,” Xander countered, “Usually, I don’t have someone else occupying my bed and forcing me into her territory.”

There was the crux of the issue. Kaze had no business sleeping in the crown prince’s bed while Xander was banished to the couch and the whims of his bloodthirsty cat. The trouble was, Prince Xander had been the one to decide their arrangement. He could have moved Kaze at any time, even woken the other man and demanded he crawl to the couch on his own, but he chose to let his injured prisoner, a lowly ninja at that, take the most comfortable place to sleep in the room.

Kaze wouldn’t stand for it any longer. He tried to get his feet under himself, ending up balanced in a half-kneeling position with his good hand braced against the floor. “I humbly apologize, Prince Xander. I will sleep elsewhere from now on. The bed is yours.”

“You have injuries that need to heal as quickly as possible. Sleeping elsewhere will slow the process. You will take the bed,” Xander snapped back. His glower had returned, too, though it looked more like agitation at lack of sleep than composed disapproval as it usually did.

Kaze would not be swayed by a mere glare, even from the crown prince. “You must have the bed. It is yours. I am not fit to sleep where royalty does.”

“I insist you use it to mend yourself.”

“And I humbly suggest it is not my place.”

“Fine. If it will let me return to sleep sooner, then let us both take the bed!” Xander barked, a hand working over his eyes to stave off a headache.

“B-both?”

“Yes. Both. There is more than enough room for two grown men.” 

That they could agree on; Kaze couldn’t touch both sides of the bed, even lying spread eagled across it. Still, one thing didn’t make sense to him, “This is true...but...If so, why did you not use the bed earlier?”

Ignoring his question for now and taking Kaze’s lack of immediate refusal to return to the bed as permission, Xander stood up. The minor slump in his posture gave away his exhaustion. He kneeled down before the ninja, sweeping him back onto the bed in a mortifyingly effortless gesture. Satisfied with his comfort, Xander walked around the bed to perch on the other side with his back facing his guest. Whether that was a show of trust or to hide something, Kaze couldn’t be certain.

“After your inference earlier about being kept alive for sex, I did not want any misunderstandings,” Xander explained quietly.

Kaze wasn’t certain what the prince meant by ‘inference’, but ‘sex’ and ‘misunderstanding’ were clear enough. He hadn’t realized his question about being used for the royal family’s pleasure would cause Xander such angst. As a knight, it seemed his honor was paramount to him, and that included not intimidating prisoners with rape, even if the implied threat was from something as innocuous as sharing a bed for slumber. What a noble sentiment for a Nohrian.

“I trust you told me the truth,” Kaze insisted. “You will not...do that. I would prefer you sleep in your bed tonight.”

Another long pause. “You would have me sleep in my bed, even if you are there, too?”

“Yes.” When the prince didn’t lay down to claim his fair share (or less than it in Kaze’s opinion) of the bed, the ninja pushed, “...Are  _ you _ uncomfortable sharing?”

It was enough of an accusation of weakness for Xander’s head to hit the pillow in the next breath. “No,” he grumbled, shutting his eyes obstinately. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Staring into the darkness and waiting for sleep to come, Kaze pondered exactly what about him could have made the prince so afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Kaze's 'Hoshidan':  
> セリーンさん (Celine-san) - Miss Celine, referring to Xander's cat  
> 降りなさい! (Ori nasai) - 'Get off!' as in asking Celine to remove herself from Xander's face


	5. Unexpected Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Japanese-as-Hoshidan has translations at the end of the chapter

The injuries must have made Kaze more tired than usual because when he woke again, Xander was already up and attending to his bookshelf. A new tray filled with breads that smelled faintly of honey and fruit sat on the table. Beside that was a teapot and two teacups, presumably for a drink with the first meal of the day, but it appeared Xander had yet to pour either of them a cup. There still wasn’t much light through the window, an unfortunate part of living in an underground castle.

Kaze stretched as much as his protesting muscles would allow in bed, purposefully letting loose a small groan to catch Xander’s attention. A snap of leather hitting paper marked the prince shoving a book he had been reading back into the shelf, but his back was blocking Kaze’s view of where it had been filed.

“I see you are awake. When you are ready, we will dress your wounds and have our morning meal. I will be gone for the majority of the day and expect you to rest,” Xander informed him. 

Kaze couldn’t focus on the businesslike words. He was too busy staring at the novel sight of the crown prince without his armor. He’d never seen it before, not if you didn’t count encounters in the dead of night that could have been a dream, anyway. Xander looked different like this. Imposing, yes, but more elegant. Where his armor was harsh steel and clawed fingers, Xander’s casual attire (if anything the man wore could be called casual) was soft frills and bare hands that complimented his coiffed curls. He reminded Kaze of the strict scholar back home who rapped Saizo’s knuckles whenever he was late returning a scroll on Ryoma’s behalf. This man before him looked as though he would rather debate the merits of great philosophers over tea than single-handedly destroy a Hoshidan battalion in combat. 

Maybe he would. Kaze didn’t know much of Xander beyond his reputation in Hoshido. If samurai were meant to be artists, poets, and warriors, who was to say Nohrian knights were not the same?

“...is there something on my face?”

Horrified, Kaze hurriedly dropped his gaze. How sloppy to be caught staring. “No, Prince Xander. My apologies.”

“Then what is it?” Xander questioned with a hard frown.

“...your clothes,” Kaze admitted. “I have always seen you in armor.”

Xander seemed to chew on the thought almost literally, his jaw working silently. Eventually, he decided to explain, “I have need for comfortable clothing when situations allow, the same as any other man. I only wear my armor when it serves a purpose to protect myself or others.”

Kaze wanted to ask what protection the armor had served last night after Xander returned for dinner, but he could guess. Protection from the captured ninja. If Camilla had not intervened, Kaze suspected he would still be tied up and would have awoken to a crown prince in a full suit of plate instead of the studious-looking man standing by the bookshelf.

Kaze tried for a compliment instead, hoping to relieve the tension in the room. “I understand. It is good. You look...hm…” He didn’t know many words to describe a person’s appearance. Kaze settled on one he’d often heard the Nohrian women use to describe him when walking through towns; he was fairly certain it was positive. “You look cute.”

That must have been the wrong thing to say because Xander’s mouth opened in shock before slamming shut to a hard line. “Cute?! You think this attire is...cute?”

“Yes? N-no! My apologies, Prince Xander, I meant no offense,” Kaze scrambled to correct himself, though he didn’t know exactly what mistake he had made. Apparently that word was the wrong one. Perhaps he would be forgiven for the misunderstanding if he could find more Nohrian words to describe what he had meant by it. “I thought it meant you look good. You look good out of your armor.” Xander’s lips got even whiter. Definitely not the right words to explain. “I mean...um...cute is what I hear Nohrian girls say when they give me things. If I am cute, and this is good, then Prince Xander must be the most cute, yes?”

The color gradually started to return to the prince’s face. Not a moment too soon; Kaze had feared he might pop something with how tense he was. It was the same face Saizo made when nobles gave him sweets he couldn’t refuse.

“You...meant to pay me a compliment,” Xander said. He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. “To say you like these clothes.”

Kaze quickly agreed, “Yes. Yes, they are good.”

Looking at the ninja a moment longer, then glancing over his shoulder at the bookcase, Xander came to a conclusion. “I have an assignment for you while I am away today. You are to work on your Nohrian using the books there. Although you are skilled enough in Nohrian to get by on the border, around Windmire mistakes like that will land you back in prison.” 

“What mistake did I make?”

Sighing like a long suffering father, Xander began to pace while lecturing, “The word ‘cute’ usually refers to small children, animals, or women who enjoy either of these things. It may refer to men as well, but typically only in three contexts. One, is among friends or family, where it is meant to tease in good spirits. You are neither friend nor family, so it does not apply in this case. Two, is when flirting with a man, like those women when they spoke to you. And three is meant as a petty insult to attempt to demean a man’s masculinity, implying they are like a child.”

Kaze listened intently, grateful for Xander’s pauses and emphasis so he could piece together enough context to understand his explanation. Testing his comprehension, he replied, “So...you thought it was an insult.” Xander nodded. “...or I was flirting.”

“More the former than the latter,” the prince said, averting his eyes. “There is little reason for a prisoner to flirt with his captor when it will win him no freedom. You should know I am not swayed by feigned affections.” He marched over to Kaze’s bedside before the ninja had a chance to consider the meaning of his words. “That is enough of a lesson for now. Sit up. I need to dress your wounds before I leave. Tonight you will bathe and change clothes as well.”

Once he was able to get up to sitting with Xander’s help, legs swinging off the tall Nohrian bed like a child balancing on a tree limb, Kaze allowed himself to be twisted and prodded as the crown prince hunted for all his tender areas. Satisfied with whatever he found, Xander went to his desk drawer and pulled out a salve and a roll of bandages. His personal supply, it seemed, though Kaze couldn’t imagine why royalty would need one. A crown prince should have first choice of medicine. And wasn’t his youngest sister - the doll-like one with the innocent face - a healer?

The shock of ice-cold goop being dragged over his back stopped Kaze from thinking of anything else. He stiffened, one eye squeezing shut as he fought back a wince.

“It stings?” Xander asked. He kept spreading the medicine.

“Cold,” Kaze corrected through gritted teeth.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer to have a bandage placed over it, the strips of cloth soothing that icy burn. The prince gave it an apologetic pat once it was in place. “I’m not a skilled healer, but that should help. There’s nothing I can do for the hip or arm other than giving them time.”

“Thank you. I’m in your debt.”

Disgust flashed across Xander’s face before he hid it by putting the medical supplies away. “My men did this to you. You owe no debt.”

The way Xander kept his eyes averted, as if ashamed, bothered Kaze. There was nothing for a crown prince to regret in what had happened. They had all acted in accordance with the needs of their nations, and now Xander was providing him far more hospitality than any prisoner deserved. Although Kaze was rarely one to touch others, in kindness or otherwise, the ninja resolved to rest a hand on Xander’s solid shoulder, mimicking the gesture he’d seen Nohrian soldiers use to comfort each other. “I am a Hoshidan. A prisoner of war. You need not be kind. But...Prince Xander has been very kind to me. My country is your enemy, but I...I am in your debt.”

Kaze’s hand lingered for a tense moment, then the prince shook his head sharply and shrugged it off. He abruptly rose to his feet, striding away to pull a fur-lined jacket over his tunic. Xander never looked back at Kaze as he adjusted his cravat near the door. He was making ready to leave by the looks of it, though he’d never touched any tea or bread on the table. Apparently this conversation was over, too, without any explanation as to why.

One of the more unfortunate habits of royalty, in Kaze’s experience.

“I have work to attend to,” Xander stated. He flicked a hand towards the sweet-smelling meal. “Help yourself to the food while you study before Celine gets to it. Touch nothing outside that and the bookcase, or you will find yourself in bonds again. Am I clear?”

Kaze’s hands folded uselessly in his lap. He bowed toward the man who wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Yes, Prince Xander.”

Four solid steps and a single thunk of a lock’s heavy tumbler falling into place, and Kaze was alone again. 

Study, Xander had said. An odd request from a captor, but Kaze was starting to give up on cataloging the crown prince’s nonsensical behaviors in an attempt to understand his motives. As usual, it was easier to submit than question. It wasn’t as though he had much else to do while confined to this room - not while Celine was still sleeping on top of bookshelf anyhow - and a private book collection was likely the only way he’d gain any insight into the man keeping here. Xander was hardly eager to talk about himself.

Standing up on unsteady legs that were only minorly less sore than the day before, Kaze trudged over the table to claim a roll with chunks of something sweet sticking out. Apple, a bite told him. Unsurprising. As one of the few foods that grew in the dark lands, the tart, almost sour, fruit was a Nohrian favorite. Thankfully, it was also one of the few Nohrian foods that didn’t often bother Kaze’s stomach.

Leaving the roll dangling from his mouth, the ninja shuffled over to the bookshelf next. Clearly, Prince Xander loved to read. There must have been at least ten dozen books here of all shapes, colors, and sizes. The bottom shelf was filled with dusty old tomes, antiques by the look of it, while the ones at Kaze’s eye level and above had been pulled out more frequently. That there was dust here at all surprised the ninja - wasn’t Krakenburg famed for its maids and butlers?

Then again, if Kaze was able to stay here without being noticed, maybe the Xander’s chambers were off limits for them, leaving the crown prince to clean his own room. That would explain why it was well-kept but not spotless. It reminded Kaze of Lord Ryoma’s room after he had finished calligraphy, where the high prince had cleaned up after himself but the palace servants would spend the next hour removing all traces of his presence. Unlike Hoshidan royalty, Prince Xander seemed self-sufficient almost to the point of absurdity - doing piles of paperwork on his own, making his own tea, dressing himself, and tending to Kaze’s wounds without the aid of a healer. Some of it could be attributed to needing Kaze to remain a secret, even from his retainers, but Xander was too comfortable with those tasks for it to be only that. He was either a man who highly prided himself on his work ethic, or one who was so paranoid about trusting others that he strove to control every aspect of his life.

Maybe the books would help Kaze make a more educated guess which.

He ran his limp hand down the spines of the books which had no dust, while he ripped off a bite of roll with the other. Gods, these titles were incomprehensible.  _ Counterinsurgency Stratagems of the Modern Era _ .  _ The Psychology of Death: How Killers Mourn _ .  _ The Post-Tribal Era’s Transformation of Nohr _ . The only one Kaze could begin to understand on that shelf was  _ A Conqueror’s Economy _ , but he suspected if he opened it, the Nohrian inside would be as gibberish as the rest. Unless there were books for children among the untouched volumes on the lower levels, Kaze was beginning to suspect he would have no luck learning anything, Nohrian or otherwise, from what Xander had on his shelves. Kaze was fortunate to be well-educated in both the written and martial realms, but that clearly his schooling couldn’t compare to the tutoring of a crown prince, especially in a second language.

Still, he would not give up so easily. Xander had ordered him to study, and Kaze could not afford to fail the first challenge offered to him. If he was to read one of these difficult books, he would need to start by finding a Hoshidan-Nohrian dictionary, or more likely, a Nohrian-Hoshidan one. Surely the crown prince had one somewhere; he’d have to be a fool to wage war with soldiers whose orders he couldn’t translate.

Scanning the books again, he finally saw it near the top - the red and white star of Hoshido’s national seal. There were still traces of dust on it but not a solid blanket, as if someone had pulled it out for the first time in a long while and hastily wiped it off. Kaze would wager a guess that had happened sometime in the past two days, when he’d first been brought to the prince’s chambers.

It was a stretch, but Kaze could reach the top of the book just barely if he stood on his toes. His legs screamed as he tried to knock it down with the tips of his fingers. He bit harder into the roll, feeling it slip through his lips, using both hands now to pull the book towards him. Just a little further…!

The dictionary, roll, and two other books tumbled to the floor as Kaze’s hip suddenly gave out. His crash to the ground woke Celine, who poked a curious head down over the bookshelf to stare at him.

「 大丈夫です 」Kaze mumbled to her. Whether she understood or not, his answer seemed to satisfy her because her wide eyes and long black ears disappeared again, presumably so she could curl back up and return to sleep. 

Kaze pushed himself to kneeling, surveying the mess he’d made. Prince Xander would have his head (literally) if he’d damaged those books when they fell. Luckily, it seemed like the dictionary and one of the books had fallen flat on their covers. The third had landed on the spine, opening to a random page now covered with crumbs from the roll. Kaze brushed it off, intending to close it and return it along with its partner back to the shelf, but something caught his eye.

A single Hoshidan word, handwritten in blue ink by a hand seemingly uncomfortable with the characters:  サイゾウ. And next to it was the translation, printed in Nohrian as the heading of the page: Saizou.

Kaze flipped a page, then another and another. The book was entirely in Nohrian, but the annotations of both Hoshidan translations and Nohrian commentary continued in the margins. Igasato was next, having ‘伊賀里’ neatly written underneath, then Kogha with a bold line striking through the Nohrian letters.  _ ‘Eradicated’ _ the foreign hand wrote in straight, perfect letters, followed by ‘ _ Done by Mokushu? Can’t ask Kotaro, but think so _ ’.

Disbelieving, Kaze turned to the front cover, trying to figure out what this book could possibly be.  _ An Extensive Analysis of the Color Purple: Non-Illustrated Edition _ . Even without knowing what an ‘extensive analysis’ was, the reference to purple made it obvious this cover was a fake. A quick glance inside confirmed Kaze’s hypothesis. On the title page, bold letters stated this book was actually called  _ Hoshido’s Shadows: Uncovering the Mysterious World of Ninja _ followed by a publish date eight years in the past. No author’s name was anywhere to be found. The only indication of ownership was a handwritten note on the back of that page that matched the other annotations, its ink smeared as if it had gotten wet before it dried.

‘ _ Azura, Darius, and Fallon. On my honor as a knight, I vow to avenge you. The men who took you will never know peace. I will hunt them with this book until I draw my last breath. Your brother and devoted liege, Crown Prince Xander of Nohr _ ’

Kaze frowned at the book, trying to decide what to make of it. A Nohrian history of ninja in his hands. A font of knowledge, which, judging by Kaze’s skimming, was filled with too many accurate notes and observations for comfort. A book Prince Xander had clearly meant to hide from anyone who entered his room. 

Camilla’s offhand comment about her brother’s obsession with ninja was taking on a new light, as were Xander’s repeated assertions that Kaze couldn’t be trusted, not because he was a Hoshidan, but because of his profession. Someone - no, several someones - dear to the prince had been claimed by ninja. If he read this book, he might be able to discover who and how, gaining leverage over Prince Xander should the situation turn dire. And, as a side benefit, the subject matter and Hoshidan notes would likely make this a much easier read than the other books Kaze had found.

Most importantly, reading this book would fulfill his need to spy for Hoshido. The understanding of ninja tactics by Nohr’s premier general was crucial to lead effective missions against him. Too many had ended in unexpected disaster these past five years, and Kaze guessed this compilation of people, places, and events was why. Prince Xander may know more truths about ninjas than Hoshidan royalty did, enough that they might outweigh the lies men like Kaze told to misdirect the curious from their secrets. The only way to be certain was to read.

Only one problem: rifling through Xander’s personal copy of  _ Hoshido’s Shadows _ might follow the letter of the law the prince had left for Kaze, but it violated the spirit. If he was caught with his nose in this book, he’d be executed immediately for breaching national security. He’d also be accused of breaking Prince Xander’s trust and spitting on his kindness.

Kaze shut his eyes, resting his forehead against the cool, smooth pages. It wasn’t personal. He couldn’t let it become personal. If he walked away from this chance, his clan would eventually find out and forsake him. Without his clan, a man like him was nothing.

Kaze pulled five more books on top of himself, creating a large ‘accidental’ pile to hide the evidence of his snooping should someone visit unexpectedly. Then, he cracked open the Nohrian-Hoshidan dictionary, flipped to the first page of  _ Hoshido’s Shadows _ , and began to read.

‘ _ Ninja have long been the bane of Nohr’s military. They hide in plain sight, adapt quickly, and never fail to make a kill. That is why I have risked everything to create this compendium of their habits and tactics: to give Nohr an edge in the ongoing war. I expect they will come for me when they find this book, which is why I cannot risk my name. Still, I assure you, everything written within these pages is the truth. Or rather, everything is as close to the truth as it can be when dealing with a den of the world’s greatest liars. _

_ Read carefully. Listen to all you hear with a suspicious mind. One day, Nohr will reclaim the shadows with your help, dear reader... _ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 大丈夫です (Daijoubu desu) - I'm fine  
> サイゾウ (Saizou) - Referring to the ninja clan or the clan head who uses the name as a title.  
> 伊賀里 (Igasato) - Kaze's hometown and the home of the Saizo clan.


	6. Stray

Camilla had instructed her retainers that she was not entertaining visitors today, so when hard knocks came at her door, she whirled on her heels to glare at it, already reaching for her axe. She would never forgive whoever had hurt Selena and Beruka to get here.

“Camilla? I need to speak with you,” Xander’s firm baritone called from the other side of the door.

On second thought, there were a few people who wouldn’t need to fight their way past her guards. The first week after taking in Beruka, Camilla had instructed that her family always be allowed to reach her unless she explicitly forbid it. They’d learned the hard way that the ex-assassin would protect her liege against literally anyone, something that was incompatible with Xander’s habit of striding about the castle as if he owned it (and in a sense, he did). Camilla was grateful, as always, to have such loyal women looking out for her.

Tidying her skirt - just because Xander had seen her at her worst didn’t mean he deserved less than her best - Camilla’s gloved hands drew away from the axe and opened the door for her brother instead. She greeted him with a doting smile. “Why hello, Xander. I wasn’t expecting you today.”  _ Or anyone _ hung in the air. “How can I help you?”

His eyes flicked past Camilla to the fire tribe woman snarling at him on the bed behind her. The frown on Xander’s face deepened, and the temperature in the air seemed to drop ten degrees, like one of Corrin’s maids had just walked into the room. That wasn’t a good sign.

“I had a matter I wished for your perspective on,” he told her, tone so impassive even Camilla couldn’t read it. “However, I had forgotten you were entertaining company.”

Forgotten? Xander never forgot the tiniest detail about happenings around Nohr, certainly not something as important as clandestine prisoners being rehabilitated for release. Either he was lying to preserve his lofty position in front of Rinkah, or he’d been struggling with his sleep again after recent events. Camilla hoped her brother wasn’t headed for another spiral of overwork. He’d been doing so well lately, though the news of their young sister finally joining them in Krakenberg hadn’t lifted his spirits nearly as much as Camilla had hoped.

“It’s quite alright. Please, come in.” She waved towards the guest chaise, shutting the door behind him while Xander took a seat. Rinkah’s nose scrunched but she stayed silent from her position on the bed. After almost two days of ‘setting expectations’, the proud woman was finally learning.

Camilla poured her brother a cup of tea before she prompted him for more conversation. He didn’t lift the midnight porcelain to his lips, but she hoped the peppermint scent would soothe him all the same. “Now, what’s the issue?” she asked, sipping on her own cup.

Xander’s frigid gaze stayed trained on her guest, who met it with a fiery one in return. “I have a problem with a stray cat. You are good with animals,” he ignored the gnashing of Rinkah’s teeth, “so I was hoping you might offer some guidance.”

Xander finally breathed in his tea, taking a sip of it while he waited for Camilla to parse his meaning. A lifetime of passing messages in a castle where the walls had ears and knives had made speaking in code as natural as breathing for the elder siblings. Never discuss delicate topics plainly; that was the first rule to survival in Krakenberg.

She had a guess at who this stray cat might be. “This is the injured feline we’ve discussed before, yes? The one you’ve been feeding and meaning to release soon?” A bit on the nose, but Camilla had to be certain before offering advice.

“Yes,” Xander confirmed mildly. “That’s the one.”

Definitely Kaze, then. 

“What seems to be the problem? Is the wild thing tearing up your room? You know my expertise lies in taming savage beasts.” Camilla’s eyes also drifted over to the fair-haired woman on her bed. Rinkah grunted something perverse under her breath in Hoshidan. Camilla only smiled wider in return.

Across from her, Xander shook his head. “Far from it, in fact. It acts like a housecat. Well-mannered. Grateful. Even affectionate.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is it’s not a housecat,” the crown prince grumbled. He took another sip of tea, large fingers turning white where they pinched the dainty cup, betraying his stress.

Camilla stared at his hands for a time, long enough that he laid the teacup back in its tray and folded his hands in his lap instead. It was a trick they’d learned when they were young - easier to hide your emotions without anything to grip onto. Judging by his measured stillness, Xander’s distress was serious, but he couldn’t admit it was affecting him in front of present company. The princess placed a hand over his arm in a show of sisterly understanding she hoped would soothe his nerves.

“So the issue is you think it will become wild again without warning?” Camilla asked pleasantly. 

Xander suddenly reached for his tea again, but he said nothing. Stalling, Camilla guessed. She’d only seen him do that when the answer he thought he should give to someone and the answer his heart gave were at odds. It was disturbingly common when he spoke with their father. Or rather, it had been common before the king started punishing his son for any hesitation. 

If Xander was stalling, it meant he didn’t believe Kaze was going to betray them. That thought alone brought a heartfelt smile to Camilla’s lips; her brother finally had moved past the idea all ninja were evil masterminds. However, she doubted that was the root of Xander’s upset. He wouldn’t be that distraught over realizing a ninja could be a decent person. No matter how quick to judge he could be at times, Xander prided his abilities to evaluate individuals on their own merits and vices rather than where they hailed from. 

His cup was on its saucer again before Camilla could make an attempt to read her brother’s mind. He pressed on, “No. The cat won’t become wild on its own. I think its nature is to be kept. During our short time together, I have grown rather...fond of it.”

She didn’t miss the strain in his voice or the tightening of his mouth. “Then you would like to keep it?”

He poured himself more tea. Stalling again. This time Camilla waited patiently for him to finish.

“Perhaps,” he admitted, stirring his tea with a spoon though he’d added nothing to sweeten it. “It would be nice to have a companion, and the cat is charming in its mannerisms. Truthfully, it seems ideal in every way other than its wildness.”

That was a bolder endorsement than any Camilla had ever heard her brother make of another soldier. Xander did not give compliments idly. If he said Kaze was ideal, he meant exactly that, and she could only imagine what had happened between them to deserve that praise. His martial prowess had earned the prince’s interest at their first meeting, whether or not Xander had admitted it, but Camilla suspected it was more than that. She had to admit that during her short visit earlier, the ninja had been charismatic. Exceedingly polite, respectful of his situation, and earnest in his mannerisms. He had a passion for servitude Camilla had never seen in anyone who was not a retainer. She could see how it would suit Xander well - her brother could be silent and commanding while the handsome young ninja bent eagerly to his will, lapping up the praise he was sure to earn for his devotion. Xander may have surrounded himself with retainers he treated like his children by choice, but he would thrive with a man as hardworking as Kaze was at his side.

“I’m afraid I don’t see the problem,” Camilla commented and patted his hand. “If you are so fond of the cat, you should keep it.”

She knew when Xander pulled his arm away that she’d made a miscalculation. The strain in Xander’s face doubled, hard lines twitching. “The issue is not with what I want. It is with what the cat needs. It has a family out there somewhere to return to.”

“How do you know that you aren’t what the cat needs?” she countered. “It should be grateful you took it in at all.” 

That was her way: to demand love from those she loved. It was only fair, she thought. Camilla worked so hard to keep the family they’d made together; it disturbed her to think anyone would dare to abandon her after everything she did for them.

However, that was not the same for Xander. He didn’t ask for much of those he loved anymore, not other than staying alive. He’d resigned himself to a solitary life, preemptively keeping his distance so great from those he loved that it must have felt like they’d already left him. 

Was that what had upset him? If her brother thought so highly of Kaze even though he tried to deny it, perhaps, for the first time in a long while, Xander was craving for someone to stay with him. 

In glimpses of her brother caught in private, Camilla often saw his priorities wage war against one another. Now was no different. As a prince, he must forsake enemies of the state. As a brother, he must let the prisoners free. As a knight, he must not hold another against their will. But as a selfish, lonely man, he saw a promising partner that he could make sure never left him.

It was a base, ugly desire, and Xander had been taught to ignore his base desires even longer than Camilla had been drawing those desires out of lesser men. In all that time, she had never seen his resolve waver as drastically as it was now. That must have been why he came to her. He knew she would give him permission to indulge himself, the same as she always did. Maybe this time, he would listen.

Taking both of his hands up in her own though they dwarfed hers, she squeezed to get his full attention. His eyes broke away from the tea they’d been studying to stare at her, forgetting their audience for a moment.

“Xander. You don’t need to worry about the cat’s family out there. It has all the family and security it needs in you.” She smiled at him, small but powerful. “You’ve taken care of it. If it makes you happy, you deserve to keep it.”

Xander swallowed, the bob of his throat sluggish. “What if it turns out it hates the idea of being kept?”

“Then you will teach it why life is so much better with you taking care of it, rather than chancing the wild. Give it food, love, and attention, and it will stay by you forever of its own free will.”

Camilla could see the gears turning behind his eyes, grinding furiously to weigh emotion against all the other roles he had to play, from crown prince to responsible brother. Eventually, he rose to his feet, offering his sister a regal nod. “Thank you for the advice, Camilla. You have given me much to consider.”

Ever the attentive hostess, she rose right behind him and said, “It was my pleasure. I wish you the best of luck with your cat situation. Should it give you any trouble, I’m happy to visit so I might help you tame it.”

“I thank you for the offer, though I don’t believe I’ll be needing it,” Xander returned, heading for the door. He spared a nod in Rinkah’s direction before pulling it open. She mutely glared at him. “I apologize again for the interruption. I yet have more work to attend to. Farewell, ladies.”

The door shut behind him, his long strides audible through the wood as he made haste towards some other part of the castle. Camilla locked the door with a smile. This was an interesting development. She never would have anticipated that her elder brother was capable of harboring such messy feelings towards anyone. It could all work out in her favor in the end. Should Xander choose to leash up that pretty ninja, it would be easier to convince him that the princess should be allowed to keep the lovely lady on her bed, too.

“Now, where were we, Rinkah?” Camilla purred, hips swaying in an exaggerated curve as she sauntered towards the bed, savoring each clack of her long heels. The other woman’s hands balled into fists, but she didn’t chance an outburst this time. What a good girl. “Ah yes, I believe I was teaching you the finer points of Nohrian tea. Let us continue your lesson.”


	7. Clean Slate

Celine’s sharp hearing picked up the intruder long before Kaze’s did. It must have been one of the reasons Xander kept her around despite her unpredictability; besides her soft fur and the comforting sounds she made when pet, Celine was as vigilant as any watchdog in alerting those around her to suspicious noises. Instead of insistent barks, perked ears and long mews directed towards the door warned Kaze he needed to hurry in heading back to bed. The ninja was able to slip under the covers right as his visitor opened the door.

“I’ve returned,” Xander informed the room as the door swung shut behind him. Celine jumped into his arms without waiting for her owner to open them, forcing him to catch her under an elbow so he could scratch her cheek.

Kaze sat up in the bed, greeting the prince with a nod. “It is good to see you, Prince Xander. I hope your day went well.”

“I’m surprised to hear that. A good day for me is likely a bad one for you,” Xander returned, loosening his cravat and letting Celine drop back to the floor. His voice held no trace of disdain for Kaze’s comment, as if he was genuinely curious why the ninja would wish him well.

Kaze felt an unbidden smile brighten his face. “A good day for the man who is kind to me is a good day for me. I do not think killing Hoshidans alone brings good days for Prince Xander. ‘A wise general does not smile at victory in a single battle, nor frown at a single defeat. His happiness is dictated by the fullness of life his men lead and the conviction of his heart. He is most at peace when he lays his sword to rest.’ Is it not so?”

“Captain Alvis Stormbreaker,” Xander named the quote’s author. He paused in setting aside the white cloth, sparing Kaze a curious glance. “I’m surprised you were able to study him.”

“I find it is easier to read Nohrian than to speak it. Your dictionary was a great help.”

Xander nodded and stepped towards the bookshelf. “I see. Then I will set a challenge more appropriate to your skill level for tomorrow. I think that…” Mouth agape, the prince’s voice trailed away. His hand brushed one of the spines. “Kaze...did you clean the shelves?”

The ninja’s sheepish eyes studied the stars embroidered on the duvet hiding his legs. He hadn’t meant to do so, but when he was so dizzy from reading all those Nohrian words that he could no longer focus on any of the books, not even  _ Hoshido’s Shadows _ , he’d put them back in anticipation of taking a break to tend to Celine. However, he didn’t want to return the books dirty, so he began to wipe them down. Then Kaze realized it wouldn’t do to leave clean books next to dusty ones, and before he knew it his body was moving on its own, dusting and polishing every centimeter of that bookcase just as he would have in Hoshido.

“My apologies if it was inappropriate, Prince Xander,” Kaze murmured and bowed his head. “I could not study any longer, but I wanted to be useful. I swear, I only touched the bookcase and the table.”

Xander waved off his apology but stalked over to Kaze’s bedside. He loomed like an eagle soaring above its prey before the fatal strike. “You never need to apologize for good manners. You are not a butler, yet your cleaning skills are excellent.”

“You flatter me.” Kaze’s eyes didn’t rise from the bedspread.

“I never give empty compliments. Even in my house, as a prisoner, you act as the perfect servant. Hoshido trains its retainers well.”

A gasp knocked itself from Kaze’s chest, followed by a rapid shake of his head. “You are mistaken, Prince Xander. I am no retainer.”

“Don’t try to deceive me. I have seen you fight. And now, I have seen you study and clean,” Xander scoffed. He crossed his arms, appearing as a tower of steel even without his armor. “You are clearly comfortable with royal etiquette, even if Nohr’s customs are different. The only way for that to be possible would be if you assisted as a servant in the castle.”

“A servant but not a retainer.”

Xander’s scowl darkened. “Do you take me for a fool? Men with your martial ability, work ethic, and charisma are rare. Hoshido’s rulers would have to be insane not to offer you retainership.”

Venom pooled beneath Kaze’s tongue, and he gripped the sheets beneath the covers to keep it from spilling out. Xander could not know Kaze’s shame. If he spoke too freely of his disgrace, the crown prince would undoubtedly guess he was part of the only ninja clan that book said was present at the time of King Sumeragi’s death - the Saizo clan, right hand to the white throne. It didn’t matter that the book was wrong (other clans were there as well), it would lead Xander in the correct direction guessing Kaze’s identity, therefore putting Saizo and everyone else who relied on Igasato’s ninjas at risk.

“Hoshido does not share your opinion of me,” Kaze told the prince. He couldn’t keep a thread of bitterness from his voice. “Maybe our standards are more strict than in Nohr. I am still honored to serve.”

He regretted the glib words the moment they left his lips.

“Your standards are more strict? You mean to say our retainers are incompetent compared to Hoshido?” Xander snapped. Kaze feared the prince might squeeze right through his own bicep with how hard he was gripping it.

“Never!” Kaze took a shuddering breath to calm himself. “My apologies, I still struggle with Nohrian phrases. I do not know Nohr’s retainers, but I believe they are very good. A man like Prince Xander would not choose a poor retainer.”

The crease in Xander’s brow was so deep swallows could have nested in it. “You do not believe that.”

“I do. You are very wise. It is why Hoshido fears and respects you.”

“And yet, when I say you would make a fine retainer, you still think you are unfit.” That wasn’t a question. 

It was starting to make sense, how this cold prince could be the same passionate man who wrote bold and often accurate guesses of ninja exploits in that book’s margins. Xander was an astute man. He saw right through masquerades of pretty words and was meticulous in his observations to the point where Kaze once again felt as though the prince would have been at home among his ninja brethren. Emotions could be buried and intentions held hostage, but there was no disguising a student of the human mind. 

Kaze wondered if Lord Ryoma was so shrewd in private. He wished Saizo would speak to him more often about that aspect of his duties. Despite serving at Castle Shirasagi every day, Kaze remained distant from the royal family’s inner circle. Naturally, the Saizo didn’t have time for lower-born ninja like Kaze, brotherhood notwithstanding, nor could he risk running his mouth about matters of national security so casually. 

Nohr was muddling Kaze’s mind. It was easy to forget how worthless he was while being showered with praise by the crown prince.

Lost in his thoughts, Kaze didn’t notice how long he’d clammed up until Xander was suddenly no longer at his bedside. Apparently he’d given up on the conversation about retainers for now. He was digging through his dresser drawers, specifically the lower ones filled with clothes so small that the prince’s broad body would have ripped right through if he tried to put them on. Old clothes from his youth, most likely. 

Having found what he was looking for, Xander held out a bundle of black fabric to Kaze. “You’ve ruined the white shirt I gave you while dusting. Here.”

Kaze bowed as he took them, cheeks burning with shame. He had forgotten he was wearing the crown prince’s clothing. He wasn’t used to worrying about keeping his own outfit clean, so when he decided the bookshelf needed dusting and he had no access to cleaning supplies, it had been only natural to use his sleeve.

“Thank you,” Kaze murmured. “I apologize for the mess. I would wash it myself if I was allowed.”

“It’s fine. Your clothes needed changing anyway. I have no desire to share a bed with a dirty prisoner,” Xander informed him. He nodded towards the washroom, his expression not holding the same bite as his words. “I will draw you a bath before I start my work for the evening. If you need help, call for me.”

“Draw...a bath…?”

The prince’s lip twitched. “I forgot Hoshido has different bathing habits than Nohr. I will be filling a large tub with hot water for you to clean yourself in. You’ve seen it in the washroom before.”

“It has gold paws,” Kaze recalled. “I did not know why you had it.”

“Gold lion’s feet, yes. You may cleanse yourself in it however you feel comfortable.” Kaze had more questions, concerned the tightrope of foreign royal etiquette he’d been forced to walk was about to give out without strict rules to hold it taut, but Xander was already striding into the next room. He paused in the threshold to add, “...when you are done, use a drop of whatever scented oils agree with your senses on your wrists and neck. They are in the small table’s second drawer.”

Then he was gone, leaving Kaze feeling wholly out of his depth. Scented oils were a luxury only nobility could afford, and given the sad state of Nohr’s economy, it must have been an indulgence even for the crown prince. Sharing it with a prisoner was simply absurd. The only justification Kaze could think of was that Xander didn’t want his aristocratic sense of smell to be offended by his guest’s natural odor when they went to bed.

He would have to find a way to repay this inappropriate favor. It might the only time in Kaze’s life he had the opportunity to use such a precious item.

It took a minute to untangle himself from the pillows and warm blankets strewn across the bed. Kaze couldn’t imagine how numerous the layers must become in the dead of winter here; it was already twice what he had ever used in Hoshido. A ninja’s scarf was barely enough to handle the chill during the rainy season going on right now. Given that the dark lands only had two seasons - rain and snow - Kaze was grateful he’d gotten captured during the milder part of the year. Not that seasons really mattered when his entire world had shrunk to two indoor rooms.

Taking careful steps to protect his still unstable legs, Kaze limped to the washroom, the bundle of new clothing tucked under an arm. Behind him, Celine hopped into the bed to occupy the warm sheets he’d left. Xander had finished filling the tub by the time Kaze arrived. Some cloths, soaps, and a small bucket had been left at its edge, presumably for rinsing off as much sweat and residual grime as possible.

“That should be everything you need,” Xander said, raising out of his stoop over the water. “Set your used dressings over there and clothes on that bench. When you are done bathing, I will apply new bandages to your back if necessary.”

He brushed past Kaze on his way out, nodding once to acknowledge Kaze’s thanks. As soon as the privacy curtain had been drawn, the ninja began working himself out of the tent-like clothing he was wearing using his good hand. It was difficult, the armpits catching on his elbows and wads of fabric getting stuck on his ears, but any perceived dawdling would throw suspicion on what he was doing while alone. Xander had given him a remarkable amount of freedom today, and Kaze wanted to keep it.

The bath water was hotter than Kaze expected. Maybe it was due to how cold Nohr’s air was without a shirt, but it felt like liquid fire lapping at his skin and sinking into his bones. This must have been how Nohrians survived without hot springs.

Unfortunately, Nohrian baths didn’t retain their heat nearly as well. As Kaze began to get used to the scalding temperatures, it dropped steadily, leaving the ninja rushing to inspect his cuts and scrub them clean before he was shivering in a pool of lukewarm water. He’d never dressed so quickly in his life. He dug through the oil drawer as soon as he finished, startled by the dozen different scents Xander had amassed, and cautiously sniffing each one until he settled on a floral oil that was less overpowering than the Nohrian spice mixtures he assumed Xander usually wore. Roses, if the bottle was to be believed.

It was only when combing through a wet mop of hair with his fingers and cursing his missing circlet that Kaze realized he needed to take his shirt back off. Xander would have a harder time investigating his back with wet fabric clinging to it. The tighter fit and dampness made it even more difficult to remove than the first time.

Xander was at his desk again when Kaze stepped out, a hand bridging his forehead to massage the tension away. His quill left flecks of blue ink behind as it tapped thoughtfully on a page. Celine had given up her post warming Kaze’s space on the bed for his return, instead perching herself on the edge of the desk, batting at the quill’s feather every time Xander moved it.

Kaze cleared his throat, “Excuse me, Prince Xander. I have finished in the bath. If you would like to look at my wounds before bed, I am ready.”

He’d never thought of himself as shy, but the appraising way Xander’s sharp eyes raked down his half-exposed body from across the room made Kaze nervous enough to cross his arms over his chest. The prince gestured towards the bed when he did, taking out the salve and bandages once again.

An efficient inspection revealed Kaze would need at least one more day of protection for his back before the rawness would fade enough to allow for comfortable rest without a barrier. Xander’s attempts at healing were more careful this time, even going so far as to warm up the salve in his palms before applying it. Kaze tried to compliment him on the job well done, but the prince brushed it off, changing topics to approve of the rose scent Kaze had chosen while he leaned over the ninja’s shoulder to finish tying off the bandage.

That must have been why Xander insisted on the expensive oils. He knew they’d be in close proximity while tending to Kaze’s wounds.

Finished up at last, Xander instructed Kaze to put his shirt back on and get some rest. He kept his eyes fixed on the ninja as he dressed. It must have been to make sure Kaze was capable of handling it on his own because once he finished, Xander returned to the blank page and bored cat lounging on his desk. He muttered a wish for Kaze’s pleasant dreams. Kaze smiled and returned the sentiment.

Over the next hour, the flicker of Xander’s time marking candle, the scratch of his pen over parchment, and the soft rumble of Celine’s purrs lulled Kaze to sleep. His last coherent thought before his mind slipped into the nonsensical world of dreams was wondering if these late nights were when Xander wrote all those notes inside his books. Perhaps he would write about Kaze as well once he was gone.


	8. What's Best for Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Japanese-as-Hoshidan has translations at the end of the chapter

Sleep was not a luxury he was meant to enjoy in Nohr, Kaze thought as he woke before the dawn once again. This time it wasn’t pain that forced him to consciousness, nor even the sensation of a mattress moving beneath him when Xander joined him. It was a sound, something dark and strained from the other half of the bed.

Kaze opened his eyes to the blackness while his waking mind struggled to make sense of what had disturbed him. He focused his ears on the stuttered breaths beside him. Shallow. Abnormally fast. When it reached the point of panting, Xander’s labored breathing was suddenly broken by another long, rich groan.

Heat rose to Kaze’s cheeks as he realized his initial assumptions may have been erroneous.

He’d invaded a man’s personal space. An intensely private man, who, judging by the lack of rumors about a future queen and how scandalized he was at the thought of using a prisoner for sex, kept any carnal urges far from the public eye. That didn’t mean he didn’t have them. 

Even Kaze, infamous for his polite disinterest in his many would-be suitors, spent the occasional evening alone in his room where he could let his mind wander to heated fantasies. Without any privacy now that he had a semi-permanent visitor, Xander’s options for stress relief had become constrained to sparring and reading - a good release but no substitute for intimate touch. Sometimes a man simply needed to feel pleasure consume him until he forgot everything else.

Xander must have gotten tired of holding himself back for the sake of a mere prisoner. Why else would he choose to seek sexual gratification now, even though he had a sleeping visitor next to him? Perhaps he needed the safety and comfort of his own bed to find release. Kaze certainly did; he was too alert to possible threats to enjoy his body when anywhere else. A man paranoid as a matter of necessity like the crown prince wouldn’t drop his guard easily, either. 

It was embarrassing, but Kaze would simply have to endure it. He’d seen and heard far more explicit things while scouting, though never from so close. He wondered who Xander was thinking of. There were no words being whispered under his breath, no names of imagined lovers, nor demands for more. His groans were wordless, deep, and so intense they almost sounded pained. No, more like distressed.

It hit Kaze like a club to the face: the crown prince wasn’t moaning. He was whimpering.

Xander rolled to face his companion in bed, eyelids a mass of wrinkles as they squeezed shut to block out whatever horrific images played behind them. He twitched and jerked, tormented cries dribbling from frowning lips. Torn between the urge to shake him out of the nightmare or keep his distance for the sake of Xander’s pride, Kaze froze. 

The prince’s cat was less conflicted. While Kaze stared dumbly at Xander’s agonized face, Celine leapt onto the bed, jumping straight over the ninja and landing squarely on her owner. She smacked his nose with her fuzzy paws. When that didn’t work to stop his fitful slumber, she escalated to thwapping at his eyes and eventually even shoving a foot in his mouth. 

Unable to breathe, Xander coughed around the fur, spat out the offending appendage, and opened his eyes. Kaze slammed his own shut. Best not to be caught watching this vulnerable moment. He listened to the sound of rapid breathing being strangled into calm beside him.

“...I know, Celine,” Xander’s baritone murmured at his side once it had evened out. The bedsheets shifted in a rhythmic pattern as he petted his savior. “Another nightmare.”

Celine didn’t respond in words, but she did something that made Xander snort, a sort of muted chuckle.

“And here I thought you were concerned for me, when all you wanted was your belly rubbed.” A swish of Xander’s arm across silk sheets carried across the bed as he presumably gave her what she wanted. The sound of fingers on fur was almost inaudible to Kaze’s trained ears. He continued his strokes for several minutes, so long that Kaze thought Xander might have been lulled back to sleep by Celine’s downy coat.

When the prince spoke again, it was only a whisper, “Celine, I fear I may be making a grave mistake. Letting a ninja get so close...have I betrayed Darius and Fallon?”

Those names. They were the same ones Kaze had read in the foreword to  _ Hoshido’s Shadows.  _ Unlike Princess Azura, he wasn’t sure who those other people were, only that they had been close to Xander and were now gone, presumably dead by the hands of ninja. Friends or family, Kaze would guess, though that said little of their relationship. He had heard the horrifying stories of what Princess Azura’s Nohrian ‘family’ did to her before she was liberated. 

At first, it was easy to believe the Nohrian royals were more monsters than men when he met them, particularly the cold and indomitable Xander. It had become harder now that he’d read the notes of a heartbroken boy who had lost his little sister. Kaze wondered if Azura knew how much her eldest brother missed her. He also wondered if Saizo would talk about him like that while he was captured.

A comforting thought.

_ 「下らない言葉 _」_ _ Saizo’s voice taunted in his head. Of course his brother would dismiss such sentimentality as meaningless.

Xander started speaking again, “At least he’s sleeping.” The sheets shifted as Celine rolled over. “Don’t look at me like that. If he were Nohrian, it would be different. I’m not my sister or brother; I can’t readily welcome a former enemy into our home, not even one as exceptional as him. He has a home to return to, anyway. It’s better for everyone if I keep my distance.”

Kaze swallowed silently, grateful that Xander was too absorbed in his midnight monologue to notice. There was no mistaking the implication after their discussion before bed. All that talk of retainers and how Xander thought he deserved the title; it seemed Xander had been more serious than Kaze wanted to believe. It wasn’t as thought the crown prince had a reason to lie with Celine his only audience.

What did that mean, though? Was Xander was considering whether he should welcome Kaze into Nohr as a citizen rather than a prisoner? It would explain the unnecessarily luxurious treatment compared to Kaze’s time in a dungeon cell. Then again, it sounded like Xander had just rejected that idea for the sake of ‘everyone’, so maybe he had started treating his prisoner well for an entirely different reason. 

Kaze grit his teeth to keep his breathing from accelerating with his thoughts. He had never met a man with such frustratingly difficult motives to read.

“...Darius hated it when I said that,” Xander murmured to the feline purring on his chest, drawing Kaze away from his ruminations. “He never stepped a toe out of line until I said those words. ‘Better for everyone’. He even called me a coward for it.” His voice rose to a more nasally pitch, mimicking the man he was discussing, “‘My apologies, Lord Xander, but you should shovel that opinion in with the horse manure where it belongs. It isn’t better for everyone. It is a convenient excuse for a coward who can’t find the spine to speak his mind. I thought you were better than that, milord.’” 

He snorted softly and a laugh stuck in Kaze’s throat. The crown prince had a more cutting sense of humor than he’d anticipated. 

“I was only a boy then, but Fallon spent the next ten minutes begging me not to strip Darius of his retainership,” Xander muttered with levity still woven in his voice. “The only other time I’d ever seen her that impassioned was when I came back from the Rainbow Sage alone... and whenever she lost three hands of Skat in a row.”

Kaze’s pulse quickened at the mention of retainers again, barely listening to the rest of his statement. If Darius was a retainer, then Fallon likely was too, given how Xander talked about them. That would imply that his current set - the wild lady knight and that charming swordsman - had not been with him since childhood.

What it didn’t explain was why Xander was so upset over their loss. Retainers gladly gave their lives for their liege lords. It was their greatest duty to die that their masters might live, and presumably they had succeeded in protecting Xander from whatever ninja ambushed their lord years ago. The prince should be proud of their honorable service, not mourning their loss.

Another difference between Nohr and Hoshido, perhaps. Kaze found it hard to imagine Lord Ryoma letting Saizo or Kagero’s deaths influence his decisions years after their passing. Yet here Xander was, speaking secrets to his cat in the dead of the night, the memory of two dead retainers driving every word from his lips.

“Celine...how do I honor them? Do I respect their final sacrifice and keep him at arm’s length? Or do I listen to the lessons Darius and Fallon taught me and risk giving voice to my desires?” 

Xander sighed hard enough to shake the bed and rolled onto his side, away from Kaze. The quiet thunk of Celine’s paws hitting the floor followed as her human mattress moved. 

“...what would it take to get him to stay?” the prince whispered into the darkness. 

It didn’t answer.

‘Not much’, Kaze’s heart silently answered in its stead, much to his chagrin. 

It was wrong. This prison in the form of a prince’s lavish bedroom had become a second home too quickly. Seeing Lady Kamui again was damaging his judgment, as was having so much attention and care from someone as important as the crown prince of Nohr. Loyalty to Hoshido and stopping the war should have been the only thing on his mind. Instead, he was daydreaming in the dead of night about what it would be like to live in the darklands where he could atone for his mistake at Lady Kamui’s side and share fascinating discussions with the inscrutable but kind crown prince.

Kaze needed to get out before staying became the only thing he wanted. It would be better for everyone if he went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 下らない言葉 (Kudaranai kotoba) - Meaningless or pointless words, implying he's wasting his thoughts on frivolous things.


	9. Passing Time

Although Kaze had resolved not to let himself stay in Nohr after eavesdropping on the crown prince’s private confession, there wasn’t much action he could take until he was healed. Getting turned out with an injured hand, bad hip, and painful back would be a death sentence. He had no choice but to wait until he was stronger. All he had to do was not grow too fond of his captors in the meantime.

That proved easier said than done. If the first few days with Prince Xander had won his cautious admiration, two weeks had Kaze utterly enamored.

Kind, patient, and wise. Three virtues which, a month ago, he would have sworn Nohrians were incapable of having. He now witnessed them every day when Xander returned, hidden behind an unapproachable exterior. The prince may have been strict, but he was never cruel or unfair. As long as Kaze acted as instructed, whether studying the Nohrian language or stripping and changing the bed linens, he continued to earn new privileges that made life more livable for both of them. 

Eventually, he was given free rein of the room, save the war-related papers on the crown prince’s desk and the contents of its locked drawers. He also had the honor of fulfilling the tasks Nohr’s servants couldn’t as long as there was a clandestine prisoner in Xander’s room. Kaze had not seen a single soul other than the crown prince and his sister during the two weeks he’d been there. 

Accustomed to solitude, Kaze found other ways to fill his days. His favorite pastime was brewing tea for Xander while he worked. It had taken scouring the herbology field-guide found on the third shelf to learn half as much about Nohrian teas as he knew about Hoshidan ones, but the surprised smile he’d coaxed from Xander when he finally produced something worthy of the Nohrian royal palette made it worth the time. By then, he had spent an hour every afternoon reviewing how long the leaves should be steeped at what temperature, which plants were best for what conditions, and what flavors were considered the most appetizing in Nohr. 

Nohrians liked their tea like they liked their people, Kaze had learned. Bold and full of flavor.

Within days of his first good cup, Kaze began creating his own unique blends from the satchels of dried plant stuffs Xander brought in on his tea tray with breakfast. The relaxing duo of peppermint and catnip became a staple for the eternally stressed crown prince. Unfortunately, Celine’s attempts to stuff her face in the leaves rarely helped his mood and discouraged the prince from making the tea himself. It took two days before Kaze realized he could tie a few knots at the top of the catnip bag to turn the excess leaves into a toy. That evening, they’d watched Celine chase it around the floor. She eventually stopped to sprawl alongside it like a lord who’d indulged in too many opiates, much to the amusement of the humans in the room. Kaze was able to finish the tea in peace that night.

Next, he picked out flavors to treat Xander’s subtle moods. Cardamom and cloves to revitalize him when his head drooped so far over his desk that his nose nearly touched his papers. Ginger to settle his stomach when he only ate half his dinner. Willow bark to ease the aches in his hands when his fingers refused to grip a quill after training with Siegfried. Kaze’s personal favorite to make was rose tea with a few drops of honey. That was reserved for the nights when Xander’s eyes focused somewhere other than the bedroom, where he spoke in hushed words and took long baths before coming to bed smelling like an exotic forest. He looked at Kaze strangely those days but never commented on what he saw.

Kaze liked making rose teas best because the delicate floral fragrance reminded him of home. It had nothing to do with hoping Xander would finally express himself plainly to his prisoner. That would be a waste, considering Kaze had nearly healed and intended to be on his way back to Hoshido soon. 

As a ninja, he was an expert at lies. Especially those he told himself.

It was easy to maintain considering Xander wasn’t around most of the time. His sparse, thought-provoking conversations were reserved for the morning hours and over dinner. When he was out, Kaze’s next favorite pastime became tending to Celine. Although he couldn’t say he understood her antics, watching her play was one of life’s great pleasures. 

Play might have been the wrong word. Celine was an adventurer, as intrepid as her master and twice as independent. She scouted the room with reckless tenacity and somehow found new trouble to get into every day despite being as much a prisoner as Kaze was. From falling into tight vases and squeezing herself around to pop her head back out, to chasing a moth with sheathed claws to continue the game rather than catching it, Celine always had another trick up her sleeve Kaze hadn’t seen before. She seemed so enthralled by challenging herself, she was unbothered by the captivity.

Kaze once watched Celine crash into a wall after misjudging a leap towards the window, catch herself with her front claws, and then drag herself up the curtains one desperate paw at a time, so she could perch on the bars they hung from. It was like watching a master ninja scale to the top of the Ginkgo of the Heavens - the tallest wild tree in Hoshido - using nothing but their upper body strength and a pair of knives. A remarkable feat to witness.

When Xander found out about Celine’s escapade, he had scolded her for five solid minutes, without malice despite the small tears in his curtains. He wore the faux-sternness of a father who secretly found their child’s behavior hysterical but knew if he laughed he’d ruin his image of authority. She stared him straight in the eye through the rebuke, then flopped to her side to communicate her need for belly rubs. Xander sighed and ruffled the fur around her pearl collar.

It was amazing how such a small creature could tame a man as fearsome as the crown prince without batting an eye. It was like watching Saizo bonding with Lord Ryoma’s dogs. There was something to be said for the purity of animals.

Unfortunately, Celine’s particular brand of ‘purity’ was not always available to Kaze either, whether for affectionate cuddles or the destruction of her master’s property. She liked to sleep for the better part of the afternoon, leaving Kaze alone for too many hours with his thoughts and not enough surfaces to dust. That time became dedicated to working his way through the books on Xander’s bookshelf. 

The Nohrian-Hoshidan dictionary stayed at his bedside day and night as he reviewed a plethora of subjects, though anything about ninja remained both the easiest to read and the most interesting. Kaze started his afternoons with a chapter of  _ Hoshido’s Shadows _ when he was certain Xander wouldn’t return, then moved onto other volumes as the hours wore on. By the time a visitor joined him in the evening, Kaze was usually deep into a Nohrian treatise on a tedious topic like the negative financial impact of bandits versus nobility on the common iron miner. 

Kaze didn’t care for dry, long books written in a foreign language, but Xander always had praise for him when he saw one in the ninja’s hands. Kaze kept reading them.

That didn’t stop his mind from wandering five times a day to  _ Hoshido’s Shadows _ and what he’d overheard about Xander’s previous retainers. The more he read, the more Kaze struggled to reconcile the passionate Xander of the book and the Xander who spent most evenings in strained silence as he poured over stacks of papers he refused to discuss. 

There were only hints the two men were one and the same. Xander’s voice took on a vindictive finality whenever he talked about ninja, but unlike in the book, he never threatened Kaze beyond an occasional reminder that failure to obey instructions would end in execution. The stoic prince was downright amicable compared to the young man in the margins. His younger self’s repulsion at ninja seeped through fervid pen strokes in the chapter dedicated to preferred poisons, though many of the most gruesome ones Xander had objected to were no longer in use by ninja due to their violent and easily-recognizable symptoms. Kaze doubted that knowledge would have made any difference to a young man bent on revenge.

There was a singularity of purpose to the Xander who wrote with the reckless bravery of youth that Kaze admired. However, it was good that the crown prince he shared his room with was no longer that man. A leader of men could not see the world through the black and white lens of childhood. Maturity had dimmed Xander’s fire over the years, but sharpened his edges and tempered his armor. Kaze admired a responsible man like that even more.

It was with that admiration he greeted the crown prince when he arrived that evening, a mixture of peppermint and cinnamon ready for steeping and a kettle bubbling away within the fireplace. “Good evening, Prince Xander. Would you like milk with your tea tonight?”

Xander set down the dinner tray he’d been carrying on the coffee table, one of the apples nearly tumbling past a serving of potatoes to its demise. “Yes, thank you,” he said. 

The prince took a seat on the couch rather than at his desk. His unreadable eyes stayed fixed on Kaze, his body motionless minus the tapping of a single finger on his thigh.

Kaze didn’t press him for his thoughts, knowing they’d reveal themselves if he was patient enough. He filled the teapot in equally reverent silence. Together, they watched the steam rise and dissipate as the soothing aroma of rich spice filled the room. Celine must have been watching, too, because as soon as Kaze poured a cup for Xander and retrieved the cream to appease the prince’s mild sweet tooth, she was under his hands trying to steal any drops that didn’t make it into the tea.

“Not tonight, Miss Marceline,” Kaze admonished. “This is for Prince Xander.” She responded with a longing meow.

“You’re still very proper with her,” Xander observed.

Kaze smiled and pressed a hot cup of sweetened tea into the hand that wasn’t drumming a restless rhythm on Xander’s leg. “I am a guest in her home.”

“And if you weren’t?”

“Pardon?” Kaze couldn’t decide if that was a warning or a proposition. He busied himself with pouring a second cup of tea, this one without any dairy.

Xander shook his head, thinking better of the question. “You should know that my sister has requested to see you tomorrow for dinner.”

“It’s always an honor to spend time with Princess Camilla…”

“And she will be bringing the fire tribe chieftain with her,” the crown prince finished.

That was unexpected. Kaze had assumed his separation from Rinkah had been intentional, to keep them obedient while they healed. If their captors saw fit to bring the two of them together now, it could only mean they were near the end of their time in Nohr. That is unless the royals had something else planned.

_ (“What would it take to get him to stay…?” Xander had whispered into the darkness.) _

Kaze took a sip of his tea and cleared his throat. “I see. May I ask why Rinkah and I are being allowed to see each other?”

“You’ve proven yourself trustworthy,” Xander stated as if allowing enemies to sleep in his bedchambers was a regular occurrence.

He picked up a knife from the dinner tray, pressing the blade against the flesh of an apple. The skin gave way with a tiny crunch. Kaze had seen him do this a dozen times over his stay, slicing an apple with swift strokes into a handful of bite-sized slices, then eating half with his evening tea while he offered the other half to Kaze. It was a perfect snack, sweet with a tart aftertaste that lingered on the tongue.

Xander didn’t finish slicing through the apple. He left the knife lodged in its heart, palmed the fruit, and extended the entire thing to Kaze, knife handle first. The intensity of his gaze felt like a dare.

“You need to work on your dexterity now that your hand is healed. Cut this while I fill our plates,” he ordered. “And while you’re working, perhaps you can tell me what I should know about your companion.”

Privilege and kindness laced with threat; how very Nohrian. Kaze had never been allowed a weapon in Xander’s presence since being brought here. Before he’d been imprisoned, he would have thought this a trap. No one in their right mind would give a skilled assassin a knife when they were alone and the assassin was at his most healthy unless they were planning to provoke an attack so they could claim self-defense when killing their prisoner. But here the wary crown prince of Nohr was, handing Kaze the key to end his life and trusting he would choose not to use it to that end.

Kaze took the apple with a smile and began to cut thin, even slices. “Thank you for the practice, Prince Xander. A ninja’s hands are his livelihood.” It was a quote from  _ Hoshido’s Shadows _ (Nohrian phrases were easier to remember when he’d read them), but it must have sounded natural since Xander only grunted while he dug into the other dishes. Eager to distract from his mistake, Kaze continued, “About Rinkah, your sister likely knows more than I. They have spent much time together. You’d be better off asking her since Rinkah and I don’t often work together.

“Perhaps. But I’m asking for your observations,” Xander insisted. He frowned at a potato that wouldn’t come off the serving fork.

Kaze hummed, reaching for a second apple since the first had already been fanned out in a neat semi-circle. It was easier to think while his hands were busy. As long as he was being given the option to exercise his knife skills, if only in a culinary capacity, Kaze would take advantage of it.

“In my opinion, she is very brave,” Kaze said while the knife slished and slashed across the apple’s surface. “Proud, ferocious, and courageous. Both on and off the battlefield.”

“Tell me something I didn’t know from watching her in the throne room.”

Another test of his trustworthiness, no doubt. Kaze’s eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, his hands a blur as they passed over the fruit again and again. He had to think of something unique enough to satisfy Xander’s request for information but not damaging to Hoshido or Rinkah. The blade paused.

“She likes sweets. Hard candies, especially,” Kaze revealed. 

He’d only discovered the woman’s secret love by accident after offering her some of the pile he’d been gifted by an unknown woman when on their way to Nohr, but the light in her eyes when the candy hit her tongue stuck with him. It was nice to have someone to share sweets with for a change; Saizo always gagged when he tried to bring the excess home. It didn’t hurt that Rinkah was easy to tease about the harmless subject. Watching her try to refuse the Nohrian’s hospitality would be entertaining, and Kaze trusted Xander would never allow anything to escalate into a dangerous situation.

The crown prince placed a plate in front of Kaze filled with potatoes, onions, and some sort of bird meat he didn’t recognize. He moved the sliced apple fan over to it before grabbing his own plate and said, “I see. That will be important for tomorrow’s dinner. Anything else?”

“She is...what is the word...not scared...ah…” Kaze floundered for the proper phrasing. He knew he had recently read the word he needed in that book about breaking horses, but it was escaping him. “Uncomfortable…? No. Ah, that’s right--! She is  _ wary _ of outsiders. From both Nohr and Hoshido. It is because she respects the laws of her people. If you try to be friendly, she will be hostile.”

Xander shook his head and muttered, “She would not be the first. Most tribes have a poor relationship with Nohr. I can only hope my sister has built a rapport with her by now.”

“Rapport?”

“An understanding. Like what we have.”

Kaze placed the knife on Xander’s plate and the second apple he’d been slicing alongside it. The ruby fruit fell open into the shape of an elegant rose.

“I am grateful for our rapport, Prince Xander,” Kaze said. He smiled at the way Xander’s intense eyebrows rose and his lips parted ever so slightly, staring at the small piece of edible art. Funny how a childhood hobby developed to make vegetable-cutting less boring was now being used to impress the crown prince of an enemy nation. Fate was an unpredictable mistress.

“...As am I, Kaze.” Xander looked away from the apple long enough to catch Kaze’s gaze. Those carmine eyes smoldered like white-hot steel fresh from the fire. “I look forward to tomorrow.”


End file.
